Bruce Wayne and the Sorcerer's Stone
by Walter Kovacs
Summary: Hogwarts receives a student a bit unlike any other. A crossover, obviously.
1. Getting Started

Bruce Wayne and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter One: Getting Started

In the south of England there lived a boy who would grow up to quite famous and beloved by all the world. His name would give hope to the hopeless and strike fear in the hearts of those that served evil. He would become a shining beacon of all that is good and right with the world. However, one Harry James Potter is most assuredly not the focus of this story. No, this story has to do with another boy, one who has a destiny that is both the same and far different from the one designated for the Boy-Who-Lived. This is the story of another boy, one who would grow up to become an entity more fearsome and terrible than anything conjured up by some dark wizard, yet with a deeply engrained sense of morality he would become this entity in order to protect society, not prey on it. This is the story of how a child named Bruce Wayne was set on his path to become a force to be reckoned with in both the Wizard and Mundane world. It was a hard path to be sure, but the benefits far outweighed the risk, and the man he became would hold the fate of the world in the palm of his hand more than once, and would emerge triumphant in part because of what he learned while attending a certain school alongside other noted figures of the time.

For Bruce Wayne, it began on his birthday while he was alone in his room reading a book. Well, that's not completely true - it really began on that fateful night in Crime Alley, but that is an unnecessary digression. Alfred was downstairs, performing his duties and wondering if the young boy was beginning to tire of England. They had been staying at the current residence for over six months, since Bruce had somewhat fallen in love with the island. However, Alfred knew deep inside that eventually his charge would return to the Manor just outside of Gotham City. It was only a matter of time. The butler had wanted to give Bruce something of a party, but the boy had begged off, not wanting to deal with the socializing that was necessary for such occasions. In fact, Alfred had the sneaking suspicion that part of Bruce's rationale for dallying in England was due to the fact that here he was not quite the object of other's attention, in contrast to the situation on the other side of the Atlantic. As such, the boy had simply retired to his room, and for all appearances, it seemed that this would be a day no different from any of the others they had spent in this temporary home. It was then that an owl suddenly came flying through the open window of Bruce's room. It settled next to him and released a letter it had been carrying. Slightly dumbstruck by this sudden arrival, the boy opened the letter and read the contents, which were as follows:

_Dear Mr. Wayne,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. _

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall, _

_Deputy Headmistress_

To say that that the boy was surprised by the contents of this most unexpected letter would be a gross understatement. The possibility of magic was something he had dismissed along with Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and other ideas which he now considered "childhood fallacies". Yet, there was something about the letter and the owl which remained perched on his desk that deeply unnerved the skepticism that the young boy held. He quickly rushed down the stairs to speak with Alfred, knowing that if anyone had an idea of what was happening, it would be the loyal butler.

"Alfred! Take a look at this!" The older gentleman perused the contents of the letter.

"Have you heard of a place called 'Hogwarts'?"

"I must say that I have, Master Bruce, though at the time I thought it a bit of a joke." Bruce had to fight from keeping his jaw from dropping.

"A few days ago, a woman dressed in some rather odd clothing contacted me about the possibility that you would be accepted into a school that taught such things as magic and spellcraft. Naturally, I was quite dubious as to the whole affair, but then she performed a spell to convince me. It was quite extraordinary."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Bruce asked.

"She said that it was policy not to inform possible students about such things until the letter had been sent out. Apparently, I was contacted ahead of time so that I could prepare for this invitation, and not simply dismiss it as an idiotic joke."

Bruce could not believe it. An actual school that taught children how to perform magic, and he was accepted into it! This changed everything he thought he knew about how the world worked. How could he have not heard about such a thing until now? Obviously they must have incredibly tight security in order to keep things under wraps. What kind of people were these 'wizards'? How many of them populated the world? Were there other schools that taught magic? All these questions and a million more ran through his head as Bruce desperately tried to make sense of everything that had happened. In the space of less than five minutes his life had changed forever.

Alfred, meanwhile, was trying to gauge the reaction of his young charge to these revelations. The boy had always been incredibly methodical in his thought processes, believing that things had a certain place that they belonged in. Something as abstract as magic would surely pose an unneeded challenge to the boy. In fact, it would probably be best if they forgot this entire affair and returned to their normal lives without giving a second thought to-

"I want to go, Alfred." Bruce had spoken in a low tone of voice, but there was no mistaking what he had said. The boy then looked up at his guardian.

"I want to see what they have to offer. It's…..intriguing, to say the least." Alfred could only sigh.

"Very well, Master Bruce. Tomorrow we shall go and procure the supplies you will need for the start of term." Alfred then wrote a reply confirming that Bruce would indeed be attending Hogwarts this year.

"Give this to the owl." Bruce nodded and bounded up the stairs. The butler kept his eyes on the spot his young charge had previously occupied. He supposed it was inevitable that the boy would not stay in close proximity forever. It was simply that he would be sending the boy into a completely alien situation, one that he did not have control over. Then again, young Master Bruce had always shown a passion for unraveling mysteries, and what could possibly be a greater mystery than trying to unravel the secrets of magic? Bruce, however, had no such reservations in regards to attending Hogwarts, though his reasoning was slightly different from what Alfred assumed it to be. To the boy who witnessed his parent's murder, the possibility of learning magic presented an amazing opportunity. If he was capable of summoning magic in order to deal with his enemies…….well, the Plan to rid Gotham of its unsavory elements could become that much easier.

* * *

It had taken them a while to locate it and get in, but once they did, both Alfred and Bruce found Diagon Alley to be an experience quite unlike anything that had everhappened to them before. The first thing that struck the two were the _people_, so many dressed in robes that looked straight out of a storybook while running to and fro in search of the solution to whatever it was that could cause such distress. For Alfred, the facts of the matter began to sink in - this was _real_, and not some elaborate prank. Bruce had an expression of pure wonder on his face, but Alfred put a hand on the boy's shoulder as a reminder to stay close, though they both knew the action wasn't really needed, and they made their way into the Alley.

Their first destination was a bank referred to as Gringotts. Stepping inside the bank was quite an experience for both the boy and the elder man, as neither were quite ready for the sight of goblins going to and fro. Stepping up to the counter, Alfred addressed the goblin in front of him.

"Pardon me, good sir. I was told that this is the location where one can exchange normal currency for the kind used by wizards?" The goblin nodded and replied in a very curt tone of voice.

"That's right. How much do you want?" Alfred handed him some bits of currency and received some one hundred galleons. Bruce could not help but examine one of the coins. It felt strangely archaic and a bit surreal to actually be expected to use coins instead of the normal currency. Having completed their business at the bank, the two once again merged with the great mass that filled Diagon Alley.

The uniform shop was closest, so they went there first. Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions was certainly an interesting place. Bruce had practice at being fitted for clothes, since he had been forced to attend a number of 'elite' parties that required a very particular style of dress. However, there was an acute differenced in being measured for a small suit and being measured to fit in wizard robes. Again, the strangeness of it all weighed in on him.

After that task was finished, the two headed over to a shop named Flourish and Blotts for the schoolbooks. Once inside, Bruce could not help but be a little bit intimidated by the sheer volume of material. It would be a long while before he was fully up to speed with everything he needed to know to get along in wizarding society. Procuring the books listed on the letter from Hogwarts was fairly easy, but Bruce decided that he needed more than the bare minimum. As such, he convinced Alfred to purchase quite a few others for "research" purposes. These included _Hogwarts: A History_, _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, __Self-Defensive Spellwork,_ _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry,_ _A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions_, and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_. The defense purchases worried Alfred a little bit, and he decided to voice some of his concerns.

"Master Bruce, do you really believe that someone attending this school for their first year will need to know how to-" he looked at the inside of one the purchases. "defend yourself from the 'darkest of dark forces'?"

"I'm just looking into the basics of it, Alfred. Nothing to worry about and it never hurts to be prepared." The boy then opened a book on curses and turned to the section labeled 'Unforgivables'.

The next item to be purchased was cauldron, and both of the Gothamites were surprised at the variety they found for what they had assumed to be a fairly simple item. Potions ingredients came next, followed by an owl. It was a brown, unassuming creature they had decided to use to keep in touch. The number of other creatures at the shop had fascinated the young boy, but in the end he stuck to his decision to get an owl. None of the others appeared terribly useful to him, and simple companionship was not something he was overly interested in.

Lastly, they procured a wand. Finding Ollivanders' was easy enough, but actually going into the shop was something of a surreal experience for both of the visitors from Gotham. It seemed to emphasize the other-worldliness of the entire experience thus far. Mr. Ollivander himself was an elderly man with pale, silvery misty eyes and long fingers. Yet, something about him told Alfred that this was no senile old weakling, but rather someone that remained incredibly aware of everything going on around him. Bruce was simply taking in the sight of the old store. It did not look like much, but he had learned a while back that appearance was not everything.

"Looking for a wand, I take it?" Alfred had a feeling that the shop owner already knew the answer to that question.

"Yes. Master Bruce here is starting his first year at Hogwarts."

"Well, come on over here, lad. Let's see what we can find for you." Bruce walked up to the counter and Ollivander handed him a wand.

"Unicorn tail, nine and a half inches." Bruce gave it a wave, but nothing happened. Ollivander took it back and handed him another.

"Dragon Heartstring, ten inches." Again, nothing happened and the man took back the wand.

"I don't suppose that there is some method to this?" Alfred sarcastically commented.

"Good sir, it is not the wizard that chooses the wand, but rather the wand that chooses the wizard. Now, try this one. Hippogriff talon, eleven inches." Once again, nothing happened. Ollivander was beginning to look a bit perturbed.

"Alright – Runespoor fang, eleven and a half inches." Still nothing. The old store owner gave Bruce a curious look then set out again for a wand.

"Gryffin feather, twelve inches." Bruce waved it around, and noticed some kind of reaction from it, but Ollivander took it back. He then produced another wand, and had a confident expression on his face.

"Gryffin feather and bat wing, thirteen inches." When the boy waved this one around, sparks came out of it. Alfred then walked over and examined the wand.

"It's an unusual one, no doubt." Ollivander kept his eyes on Bruce. "Gryffin feathers are fairly common and provide a defense against dark magic. The bat wing is the odd part. It's not something that most would think goes with gryffin feathers, since they're good for the shadier kind of magic. The combination makes the wand a bit thick, but also versatile, since it can more easily use various types of magic. It's a wand for someone who might see a good deal of violence."

This prompted Bruce to give his wand a closer look. It certainly did not seem to be something that would be especially good in a fight. Still, it was the only one that had a reaction to his touch. Alfred paid the man seven galleons for it and the two left for home.

* * *

So, that was a bit of an odd experience, wasn't it. The question I put forth to all of you is quite simple - was is a good odd or a bad odd? All you have to do is click that little review button...

As to why I wrote this, well the origins to that can be found in day-old pizza, a couple chapters of Harry Potter, and a late-night viewing of Batman Begins. The idea of putting Bruce Wayne in Hogwarts grabbed me and would not let go until a wrote this pathetice excuse for a a fanfic.

In regards to the scene with Ollivander and the wand, yes I know that it's about as subtle as an especially loud marching band. I was aware of the when I wrote the scene. However, at the beginning I knew that there would have to be some bit of bat-related foreshadowing somewhere early on in the story. I know that it's all too easy for authors to start hitting their readers over the head with incidents that say "Look everyone, he's going to be BATMAN!" If you think I crossed the line, I apologize. Please write me a hateful review describing how much you despiese what I have done.


	2. Sorting Things Out

Bruce Wayne and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter Two: Sorting Things Out

In the weeks before the start of his term, Bruce devoured the contents of the books he and Alfred had purchased while in Diagon Alley. As he neared the end of the last of his books, he considered asking Alfred to take him back to the bookstore, but decided against it. It was better to review and master the information he already had at hand. The boy concluded that if he studied hard enough, he would be as knowledgeable and competent about magic as children that had grown up in wizarding houses. It was a bit more of a challenge than one would normally expect of an eleven year old boy, but then, even before his invitation to Hogwarts, Bruce Wayne was hardly what could be called "normal".

To further his efforts, Bruce attempted to do some of the more rudimentary spells he had read about in the textbooks. It took some miserable failures during the early trials, but Bruce eventually found that he could levitate small objects and perform minor hexes and other spells. Of course, he was careful to do this outside - the last thing he wanted to do was upset Alfred. The man's gaze could be quite intimidating when focused upon a stubborn young boy whose foolishness had damaged some piece of furniture. At one point, Bruce considered using magic to see if he could finally master a bit of meal preparation, but then decided against it. After the infamous toaster incident of a couple years ago, and the following punishment that came from Alfred, it would probably be a wise decision to avoid the kitchen and all its contents.

Eventually, the awaited day did arrive, and Alfred drove the boy to King's Cross Station. They had arrived roughly twenty minutes before the train was due to leave. Bruce wanted time to find a car where he could be left alone, but he also wanted to be able to take a few minutes to observe the students and how they interacted. As the two Gothamites arrived at the station, Alfred enquired as to how they were going to find the purported platform 9 ¾.

"I imagine it will be hidden in some way - it would only make sense, given the emphasis they have on secrecy. We'll just look for what could be a hidden entrance." Bruce replied in a very confident tone.

"Hmph. In my day, getting to school didn't require a scavenger hunt." The Butler said in his deadpan tone of voice. When they made their way to platform nine, Bruce did indeed start looking for something out of the ordinary. Anything that could be a clue.

"9 ¾, 9 ¾,….." he muttered aloud, and then he took a look at the dividing barrier between platforms nine and then and something resembling a smile crossed his face.

"9 ¾ ….." he whispered, and then put his hand on the barrier and - sure enough - felt nothing.

"I found it." He said after turning to Alfred. He then took the trolley and pushed it right through. There on the other side he saw a great scarlet train, and above him was a sign with "9 ¾" written on it.

"My word." Was Alfred's exclamation of surprise after following Bruce to the platform. He quickly surveyed the situation and then spoke to his young charge.

"Come now Master Bruce, let's get you aboard." And with that, the two proceeded to load the luggage onto the train. Once they had finished, Alfred looked at the boy who had become such a cornerstone of his life.

"Do keep out of trouble Master Bruce.:

"I will Alfred."

"If ever you need anything, merely have that silly bird of yours deliver it to me. If I have to, I'll break down the doors to get you out." None of it needed to be said, but the Englishman felt that he had to say something before the boy left.

"Don't worry Alfred, I'll be fine."

"Yes, well….you had best be off then." The boy nodded and got on the train. As Alfred walked away, he was so engrossed in his thoughts that he nearly bumped into a red-headed woman that was scolding her boys. He was about to leave the platform, but decided against it. He would wait and watch the train pull out of the station, just in case something happened at the last minute. So wait he did, until the train finally pulled out of King's Cross and disappeared into the distance.

* * *

The focus of Alfred Pennyworth's thoughts had meanwhile settled down in an empty space away from the other students. He had opened up his textbook on the dark forces and became so engrossed in it that when someone asked if he could sit there, Bruce responded with the rudest "no" in his vocabulary, promptly scaring the boy off. A similar incident occurred when another boy came in looking for a missing toad. Again, Bruce responded with a rude "no" to the inquiry regarding whether or not he had seen the missing pet. It was several minutes later when Bruce heard a distinct "ribbit" coming from inside the room. Looking down, he saw a toad that had a bit of a lost look to it. Sighing to himself, Bruce picked up the toad and made his way down the train. He spied a bit of a commotion, but by the time he arrived, it was over.

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us." He heard a red-headed boy say. The boy looked ready to speak more when Bruce cleared his throat.

"I believe someone is missing a toad." He held the reptile in his hand.

"There it is! Well, this will certainly calm Neville down. Thank you." The girl who had spoken took the toad and headed down the corridor. Considering that his good deed for the day, Bruce turned and walked opposite end back to his car, but not before catching a glimpse of the two boys occupying the car he just left behind. He had the strangest feeling he should have recognized the one with glasses, but pushed it out of his mind, changed into his robes and waited for the train to arrive at the fabled school.

Exiting the train was something of a unique experience for Bruce. The crowd was absolutely thick with students going to and fro. After being bumped and jostled numerous times, he heard a loud, booming voice.

"First years! First years over 'ere" The speaker had to be the tallest man Bruce had ever seen. He was holding a large lamp and gathering the first years around him. Bruce followed him to the edge of the lake, where several small boats were waiting. The children got in, two to a boat. Bruce found himself next to a plump boy holding a familiar looking toad. The boy looked ready to speak, but a very cold look from Bruce put a stop to any desire for conversation. The boat floated on in silence, as both students found themselves thinking about what they would find in the castle up ahead, though each obviously had their own plans regarding how to deal with its possible contents.

Upon entering, Bruce immediately knew one thing about the school - it was a sight to behold. Growing up, he had been sure that no building could be as impressive as Wayne Manor, but he now found that Hogwarts, with its immensely high ceiling and large expanses, could give his ancestral home a run for its money. Entering an antechamber, he saw an elderly woman approach the group of intimidated newcomers. She identified herself as Professor McGonagall and spoke directly to them.

"You shall wait here until you are called to the sorting. I suggest that you prepare yourselves." The other children started talking to each other in excited tones. There were numerous whispers of performing spells, reciting information and even the possibility of fighting trolls. For the life of him, Bruce could not understand how that last proposal could even be considered by his peers as remotely legitimate. Eventually, the students were ushered into a large hall which had a raggedy-looking hat placed on a stool in the center. Bruce had a feeling the interestingly-placed bit of apparel had something to do with the process by which first years were placed in houses. Of course, the boy certainly was not expecting it to actually _sing_, but sure enough, the hat began reciting a song…..

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends;  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

A surprisingly rousing bit of music, considering it came from a piece of clothing that looked akin to something one would find at a garage sale. Yet, Bruce was deeply disturbed by the prospect that the Hat would able to read his thoughts. It seemed to him an almost completely unacceptable possibility. To allow an object with its own set of desires free reign to access your emotions…there was not telling what it might do with the information it gathered. He was so engrossed in his thoughts concerning the Hat that when the Deputy Headmistress began to rattle off the names of the students to be sorted it was not until, "Potter, Harry" that Bruce paid any attention to the actual placing of students in the houses. What concerned him about Potter was not so much the fame that the bespeckled boy carried with him, but rather the fact that he had been an occupant of the car Bruce had noticed on the train. Scolding himself for failing to recognize such an important figure, Bruce turned his attention back to the hat, waiting for his name to be called. Eventually, it was his turn and when the Hat was placed on his head, he immediately knew that it was an experience he did not like.

"Hmmmm….a tough one, you are. The toughest I've had in a long time. Plenty of courage, enough to make Godric extremelyproud. There's a mind with a thirst for knowledge that would make any Ravenclaw green with envy. A surprisingly strong sense of loyalty as well, but also…….something else. A deep, penetrating desire to prove yourself, to become master of your domain while using your cunning mind and a willingness to use almost any means at your disposal. The rage behind it is almost palpable."

_Wait…how much do you know about me?_

"Enough" was the Hat's reply. This was a response that made Bruce want to tear the thing off his head and bury it somewhere deep, where no one could possibly find it. After a properly painful interrogation, of course. Before he could make any kind of physical reaction, the Hat began again.

"Wait! I know nothing that can be used against you, so calm down. Ah…..I know now where you belong. Someone of your temperment and shrewd nature can only be in SLYTHERIN!"

There were a few claps as Bruce made his way to the table designated for his house. He sat down at the end nearest the teachers, giving himself some time and space to think. This was certainly an interesting situation the Hat had put him in - as a "Mudblood" he wouldn't necessarily have people's respect. Not that he cared in the least, but putting up and dealing with ignorant classmates could prove to be tiring in the long run. Then there was the fact that, as a Slytherin, he would immediately be distrusted by anyone in the other houses. It could make things needlessly difficult. Nevertheless, Bruce was determined to make the best of it. He would have to, considering that The Plan called for far more difficult tasks in the future. If he couldn't conquer Hogwarts, then he stood no chance at all of conquering Gotham. He mulled over this all through the feast until the Headmaster, a man named Dumbledore, stood up to address all assembled.

"Welcome one and all to another year at Hogwarts. I have a few start of term notices. First, I must remind all of you that the Forbidden Forest is exactly that – forbidden. In addition, the third floor corridor is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death." Bruce could only wonder why such measures were in a school for children.

"And now, I would like to say a few more words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you." Considering that this was the legendary wizard that defeated the infamous Grindelwald and provided the only significant defense against Voldemort, Bruce was left feeling a bit disappointed. It was then he realized that Dumbledore was either a senile coot or incredibly clever. Bruce was not quite sure which.

The feast, at least for Bruce, passed in silence as there was no one who appeared interested in speaking to an unknown first year with a tendency to snap at people. The food was decent enough, but the newly-minted Slytherin could not help but miss Alfred's prize dinners. Eventually, the Headmaster announced that it was time for the students to retire. Bruce followed the rest as they made their way to the Slytherin dormitory, and stopped with the rest when the Prefect gave the password to get in.Once inside, the boycarefully studied the dormitory he would be spending the better part of the next seven years in. While the others were chatting about things he felt to be of no significance,he carefully circled the room, taking careful note of what was placed where, and the condition it was in. After this, he made his way to the designated sleeping area for the first years. He briefly considered writing to Alfred, but decided to wait until morning. Right now, all he wanted was to simply get some rest and prepare for the grueling task that lay before him.

* * *

Notes: 

Well then...Slytherin. I'll bet none of you saw that one coming, now did you? Which is precisely why I placed our future Batman in with the 'house of the serpent'. I originally thought about putting him in with Ravenclaw, but later decided against it simply because I don't want to make things easy for our hero. What can I say? I'm a follower of the "hurts so good" style of writing and having Bruce in Slytherin seemed a surefire way to inject tension into the story. Or at least, as much as possible, considering that Bruce hasthe nasty habit of not giving a damn what other people think. A great personality trait, but murder for whenan authorwants to the character to feel shunned by his peers. It's kind of hard for the character to feel isolated and alone when he likes being isolated and alone.

As for the rationale of getting Bruce into a house notorious for dark wizards, I had to stretch it a little bit, but I think it works due to the various facets of his personality. He can be the Noble Hero at times (putting him in Gryffindor), and can also be the Great Detective (Ravenclaw), along with incredibly loyal...sometimes...(Hufflepuff), but he can also be a Scheming Bastard (Slytherin, of course) and at this point in his life, Bruce is looking for revenge more than anything else, and is not a terribly pleasant person to be around unless you're Alfred. As I hope I made relatively clear in the last installment, his primary motivation for attending Hogwartws was to learn about magic as a skill that could be used to help him on his mission, which is more a selfish motivation than anything else. If this were Bruce when he was, say, 25 or 30 years old, and had been a hero for a while, raising a couple Robins and so forth, he'd probably end up in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, but as it stands currently in the story I think his temperment puts him more in Slytherin. Don't worry, he'll still be recognizably Bat-er, Bruce by the time I'm done, which could bea long while, if I go ahead and write seven separate stories about a seven-year experience in Hogwarts. There are some scenes in my head that I'm dying to write...

As for Bruce using magic after graduation and while he's Batman...well, a lot can happen in seven years to change someone...


	3. Interactions

Bruce Wayne and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter Three: Interactions

As the week began, Bruce became thankful for one thing: his surly disposition. It kept people away from him, which allowed him to have the solitude he so craved. As a beneficial side-effect, it also kept away the undesirables, for which Bruce was thankful. He had a feeling that breaking someone's arm for insulting his parents would not be a particularly beneficial way of starting the school year, even though it would prove to be a very satisfying experience. Especially given the blatant bigotry that seemed prevalent in Slytherin, which appeared to be personified in the form of one Draco Malfoy. Coming from a rich and influential family, it was obvious from the first day that Draco held incredible sway over the house, despite the fact that he was only a first year. Breakfast the first morning set what would be the tone for the rest of the year.

He had arrived early, hoping to eat his meal quickly and get to class with the smallest required social interaction he could get away with when he saw Malfoy walk up. The blonde was flanked by two other first years referred to simply as 'Crabbe' and 'Goyle'. They would not give anyone the impression of exemplifying the more cunning nature of Slytherin. Malfoy made his way to a certain spot at the table, which was already occupied. He motioned to his two flunkies and they promptly grabbed the student (a first year) who was sitting in the place Malfoy wanted, and simply pulled him away from the table and pushed him to the ground. The three then sat down, immediately becoming the center of attention.

"Looking forward to the first day?" A girl named Parkinson asked.

"Naturally. I'll soon be showing Hogwarts the kind of greatness that only a Malfoy has." It was the kind of statement that made Bruce want to puke, but Parkinson was just enthralled.

"Better be careful, don't want Potter to show you up." The speaker was a boy named Nott. Malfoy snorted.

"Potter? He's nothing more than an idiotic glory-seeker, stupid enough to associate with mudbloods and trash like the Weasleys. I actually thought he could have had a place here, with us and he was stupid enough to reject my offer. We're lucky he got sorted into Gryffindor – the last thing any Slytherin should want is someone as stupid as Harry bloody Potter muddying things. Before I got on the train my father told me that only the best were in Slytherin. Anyone else is nothing more than a sheep looking to be fleeced." That garnered a few chuckles from the group, though Crabbe and Goyle had to be nudged into realizing that they should laugh with the rest. Bruce simply got up from the table, leaving his breakfast unfinished. He knew that it would be a good idea to leave before the urge to pummel Malfoy became uncontrollable.

Bruce quietly went to first class and paid attention to everything that came out of a teacher's mouth. This did not just apply to lessons - he took careful note of how each teacher behaved and reacted to their class. For instance, when he was watching McGonagall, he knew that if he played straight with her, she would play straight with him, though it would be unlikely that she would be awarding him any house points. He was a Slytherin, after all, and more to the point, Bruce didn't make his aptitude for magic that noticeable. While the other students were quick to announce their success in levitating feathers, Bruce remained quiet, watching how each of his classmates acted. Eventually, when he finally informed McGonagall of his ability to cast 'Wingardium Leviosa', it was only at a time when she would not think of him as an especially bright pupil.

Subtlety and subterfuge were two skills he felt to be necessary to survive in the world, and thought more people should be aware of them. A good example of what not to do would be that Granger girl (who he remembered from the train). While obviously the most brilliant person in her year, she could easily stand to learn a few of his lessons in regards to subtlety. Especially around Professor Snape. The head of Bruce's House ranked as one of the most unpleasant individuals that the heir to the Wayne fortune had ever encountered. That first potions class was an experience he would long remember as a prime example of power being abused.

Bruce had arrived early, something he planned to make a habit of during his stay at Hogwarts, and placed himself near the back of the classroom. A few of his housemates had tried to sit next to him, but the unpleasant looks he sent their way convinced everyone in range to simply leave him alone. Getting out his quill and parchment, Bruce considered himself ready for whatever the Professor could throw at the class. Little did he know that there might be a danger of Snape literally throwing objects at the students. Once the classroom was filled to capacity, the door to the dungeon swung open, and in stalked the potions master, obviously not in a pleasant mood.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making." The look he gave the class while reciting this speech could have frozen a troll dead in its tracks.

"However, for those select few who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death." Assuming that the man was not given to hyperbole, these were truly impressive feats. The possible applications that such potions could have almost boggled Bruce's mind. However, the Professor was not done yet.

"Then again…" Snape looked at Harry, who was scribbling down notes. "maybe some of you have come to in possession of abilities so formidable that you fell confidant enough to not pay attention." Harry had stopped writing and now looked directly as Snape.

"Mr. Potter, our new….celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_Sleeping potion. The 'draught of living death', if I'm correct_. However, Bruce was not willing to share his thoughts with the rest of the class. Potter looked flustered and Granger's hand had shot into the air.

"You don't know? Well, where would you look if I asked you to find a bezoar?" It was clear that Snape was out to crucify the Gryffindor. Bruce, of course, knew the answer to be 'the stomach of a goat', as did Granger, going by her still-raised hand.

"I don't know, sir." Potter continued to look flustered. Snape continued to press the issue.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" '_They're the same plant'_ Bruce thought to himself, though it was obvious that Potter was still in unknown territory.

"I don't know, sir." They boy with the scar was clearly uncomfortable and wanted the experience over with, but Bruce had a feeling that the potions master was not yet finished.

"Pity. Clearly fame isn't everything, is it Mr. Potter?" The Gryffindor, rather than simply leave it at that, instead decided upon the stupidest action possible: a response.

"Clearly Hermione knows. It seems a pity not to ask her." The other Gryffindors laughed softly at that, but Bruce knew it would only provoke the Professor.

"Silence. For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." There was a pause as Snape glared at Potter and then at everyone in the class.

"Why aren't you writing this down?" There was a great deal of rustling noises as the first years started scribbling down what they remembered from Snape's speech. Bruce had already gotten the important parts down – he had a feeling that the Professor would be petty enough to make everyone write down the information that Potter had just been quizzed on.

For the rest of the class, Bruce took notice of the pointless persecution that Snape rendered unto Potter. One would think that the supposed savior of the wizarding world wouldn't be driven into the ground simply because he was made famous by circumstances outside of his control. It left a bit of a sour taste in Bruce's mouth, but as usual, he remained silent and carefully monitored the situation. If Snape proved to be too much of a hindrance to the class in general, then Bruce would simply have to take steps to remove him, no matter how much influence the potions master had over Slytherin House.

* * *

Bruce did write Alfred that letter, assuring his guardian that everything was going along smoothly, though Bruce only gave him a brief outline of what Slytherin House was. He didn't want his friend to worry about him. After the reply, Bruce only kept in touch rarely - Alfred knew that the boy wasn't one to spend time writing letters. Bruce also began to become acquainted with the school library - it was far more peaceful and useful than the Slytherin dormitory, though the boy made sure he didn't neglect it too much - he wanted to keep an eye on the goings-on in that house. This was especially true after the first flying lesson he had - Malfoy proved to be every bit the arrogant scum Bruce believed him to be. His theft of Neville Longbottom's Remembrall had nearly prompted Bruce to intervene, but he stopped when he saw Harry Potter getting involved. Bruce was curious to see how the Boy-who-lived would handle the situation and if it went badly, well, he could always have Alfred pick up another Remembrall to be delivered to Longbottom.

Bruce was quite pleased when he saw Potter's flying ability, even though he had no interest in things such as Quidditch. He was worried about the boy when McGonagall stormed off with him, and Bruce began plotting ways to save the Gryffindor when he overheard that the boy had actually been made Seeker for the Quidditch team. After hearing this, Bruce paid close attention to Malfoy's behavior and sure enough, though he didn't seem to know about the Seeker position, the Slytherin had plotted a revenge scheme. He had challenged Harry to a wizarding duel, clearly aware that they wouldn't suspect that Malfoy had no actual intention of going, and instead would alert Filch. While Bruce was not especially inclined to waste his time looking after foolish children, he was aware of the fact that Potter had come to represent a kind of threat to Malfoy. Propping up Potter would weaken Malfoy, and a weakened Malfoy would make Bruce's life easier, with the added incentive that it would be especially satisfying to see the bigot's plan backfire. So, Bruce resolved to intercept Potter before he could be caught by Filch.

That night, he carefully crept out of the dormitory, which wasn't really hard, considering how oblivious most of his fellow Slytherins were to anything that didn't immediately concern them. He had spent a few nights roaming the halls in order to get a sense of direction in the school, and so he knew a quick and silent way of getting to the trophy room. Of course, his intended destination was down the corridor, so there he waited outside the room, expecting Potter at any second. He didn't have to wait long, but the first year Slytherin was surprised to see that the Gryffindor was accompanied by Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom in addition to the red-headed boy (Weasley, Bruce thought his name was) that he expected to be Potter's second. Something must have happened for the upright Granger to be along and Longbottom was an accident waiting to happen. There was no way Potter would have brought either the former or the latter unless there had been some incident on the way. No matter. Bruce turned to face the foursome as they arrived outside the trophy room.

"I thought Crabbe was Malfoy's second?" the red-headed boy said. Bruce gave a small laugh.

"Malfoy has no intention of coming and never did. If you're smart, you'll turn around right now before Filch gets here." The remark came out in a very snide way, which only aggravated the red-headed Gryffindor.

"And why should we trust you? You snakes stick together. You're probably trying to get us to run off so Malfoy can call Harry a coward."

"Weasley, if you bothered to use that thing you call a brain, you would know that if I had wanted to humiliate Potter, I would have brought Filch along with me. Or better yet, Snape. I know he would love a chance to punish all of you." Bruce had a smug tone to his voice, which hurt his case enough so that the red head was more interested in salvaging his pride rather than actually listening to what he had to say. The Weasley boy was about to speak when Granger beat him to it.

"He has a point, Ron. If he wanted to get us in trouble, we wouldn't be standing around talking like this." It was after this remark that Potter, who had since been silently mulling things over, spoke

"Why _are_ you doing this? You're in Slytherin. Helping me isn't going to make you any friends." The boy had a guarded curiosity to his voice that told Bruce he had made a bit of headway.

"I'm not _helping_ you, I'm _hurting_ Malfoy, even if it is in a minor way." The Slytherin then heard an all-too familiar noise. Bruce decided to put an end to this.

"That's Norris right now. If you want to stay and lose points for your house, fine. I'm leaving." With that, he turned and found that, after a brief bit of muttering between them, the Gryffindors were following.

"I take it you know how to avoid Ms. Norris?" Granger had asked that. Bruce nodded.

"We'll go through the trophy room. Filch will be watching the halls. We'll have to take the long way around in order to lose him." With that, he made his way into the trophy room, leading the group to a passage that put them near the Charms classroom, far away from Filch. Bruce stopped to address the group.

"I think we can find our respective dormitories from here. Good-" Bruce was about to say "goodbye" when he found himself interrupted by the one thing he had failed to take into account when planning this escapade.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!" The voice of Peeves the poltergeist was loud enough to wake the dead, although it was the living that Bruce was worried about. The group ran down the corridor and slammed into a locked door.

"Alohomora!" Bruce had cast the opening spell, and the students rushed inside. While the others had their ears to the door, listening to Filch's verbal sparring match with Peeves, Bruce had something on his mind. The 'something else' being a large, three-headed dog that looked capable of devouring all of them in seconds. Bruce put his back to the wall, and made no sudden movement in the hopes of keeping the beast calm. He looked to his side and saw that Potter hand noticed the beast as well. They exchanged knowing glances, and Bruce put his hand on the doorknob and opened it. Better Filch than death. Although to Bruce, this foul-up of his plans was worse than death, in its own way. They all ran together out of the corridor, but Bruce cut off from the rest when he saw that they were within range of the Gryffindor common room. He noticed that Granger stole a quick glance back at him, since he had been running ahead of her when he decided to break off, and made his way back to the Slytherin dormitory. All the way, he was cursing himself. Why hadn't he thought to take Peeves into account? This was unacceptable. Random factors cannot be allowed to interfere in his plans. Bruce then resolved to find a way to neutralize Peeves as a threat. Perhaps if he struck up a conversation with the Bloody Baron, he would find whatever hold the Slytherin ghost has over Peeves, and then use it to his advantage. Then again, the Baron wasn't the most social of creatures. Perhaps some spells would work. He would have to check the library. Then there was the matter of that dog - why was it in the school? Dumbledore had mentioned that that certain area of the school was off-limits. Why? He pondered this for a few minutes, and then the answer hit him like a brick - it was guarding something. That was the only thing that made sense. The question now was, what would be valuable enough that Dumbledore would have a beast that dangerous guard it?

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, Bruce took immense pleasure at the look on Malfoy's face when Harry and Ron showed up, looking cheerful as ever. He didn't make eye contact with the Gryffindors, but he felt sure that they had glanced his way just as he had glanced at them. He paid close attention to the parcel that landed on the table, and noticed the glee Potter was desperately trying to hide when he heard Weasley say what he thought was "Nimbus two-thousand!" The boy considered following Malfoy when he noticed that the Slytherin was trailing Potter and Weasley, but decided against it. He had spent enough time on those two and there was nothing Malfoy could do anyway, since Harry had been made Seeker for the Gryffindors. There were more important matters to focus upon, namely the dog, what it was guarding, and how to deal with Peeves. As the days passed, it only aggravated Bruce that he came no closer to unraveling any of the mysteries that faced him. He would spend parts of the night roaming the halls, learning the various twists and turns, and pondering what course of action he should take next. His time in the library yielded little as well. On the plus side, he was doing well in all his classes and things were quiet, which was always helpful.

Eventually Halloween rolled around, and Bruce realized he had spent two whole months at Hogwarts. He had decided to celebrate by enjoying a bit of time in the library when he was nearly run over by Hermione Granger as she made her way to the girls' bathroom. She was obviously upset, but Bruce didn't have time to deal with the hurt feelings of a silly eleven year old girl and continued on his way. Pulling out a book on the ways to detect dark magic, Bruce settled in for a good, long read.

After awhile, he was considering stopping by the feast - if only to grab a bite to eat and see the decorations, when Madam Pince informed him that he was to return to the dormitory at once, since a troll was loose in the building. He was on his way, wondering how a troll could have gotten into such a purportedly secure place as Hogwarts, when a thought struck him. Miss Granger was upset enough that she probably was still in the bathroom, and unaware of the troll. Cursing his conscience and Miss Granger, Bruce made his way to the girls' bathroom and was met by a fearsome sight.

There was the Gryffindor, huddled against the wall as the troll was slowly advancing on her. It was an ugly brute of a thing, armed with a particularly nasty-looking club. Bruce quickly raised his wand and shouted "Expelliarmus!" hoping to separate the club from its owner. His spell somehow succeeded, which had the beneficial effect of removing Granger as the troll's object of attention. However, it also had the detrimental effect of having the troll focus on Bruce. The Slytherin immediately started wracking his brain for a curse to bring down the lumbering brute when it swung its arms down at him. Bruce narrowly managed to get out of the way and avoid becoming a green, black and red splotch on the ground. About this time, Potter and Weasley showed up. He heard one of them say something to the other and then Weasley started shouting at the troll while Potter ran to Granger's side, trying to get the girl to move. It was no use, but then Bruce yelled at Weasley to get clear and cast another spell

"Stupefy!" he yelled, but it only had the effect of disorienting the troll, causing it to swing its arms around wildly. It was then that Potter did something that Bruce never expected. He somehow managed to jump on the troll and get his arms around its neck. The Gryffindor then tried an extremely unusual tactic – he stuck his wand up the troll's nose. The troll was now wild with pain and rage. Bruce raised his wand and again shouted "Stupefy" while Weasley, looking to do _something_, did the same with his own wand. This finally caused the beast to relent in its assault, and it fell to the ground, completely unconscious.

* * *

First off, an apology:

I wrote this entire story in the span of one night. Yes, one littlenight. It think it starts to show in this chapter. I had the strong desire to rewrite most of it, lengthening here, editing there, but sadly my copy of _Sorcerer's Stone_ met with an unfortunate fate, and I don't really have the time or the moneyto spend in order to procure a new copy for use as a reference text. So, I've decided to go ahead and post the unedited version of the story. Expect roughly five more chapters, each posted a day after the next, and then I'll start posting the material I have for _Chamber of Secrets_. I'm only two chapters in, but it's already better than this current effort by leaps and bounds. I've got a great bit with Alfred that I'm dying to see a reaction from.

Which brings me to a more personal matter: the lack of feedback on the second chapter. I'm hurt, really. I would have at least hoped for an angry review that berates me for committing a sin against everything good and right in the universe. Remember - I feed off of your hate.


	4. Questions

Bruce Wayne and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter Four: Questions

Bruce looked at Granger. Granger looked at Bruce. Granger looked at Potter and Weasley. Potter and Weasley looked at Bruce. None of them were quite sure what to say. It looked like Granger was finally going to speak when the door to the bathroom swung open and in came Professors McGonagall, Quirrell and Snape. As McGonagall started to give the students the third degree, Bruce immediately began to think of a good excuse, ranging from seeing the troll barge in, to saying that he had gotten the group turned around when suddenly he heard a small voice.

"Professor - they were looking for me." Hermione Granger then proceeded to completely and totally lie about her desire to catch the troll herself, how Potter, Weasley and Bruce had gone after her and how she would probably be dead now if it hadn't been for their timely intervention. Bruce had to give the girl credit - she was a very good liar. McGonagall took five points from Gryffindor for Granger's actions and then gave Potter and Weasley five points each for their courage. She then looked at Bruce, and after a quick glance at Snape, who had an interesting scowl on his face, gave five points to Slytherin for Bruce's bravery. While he outwardly showed little emotion, inwardly Bruce allowed himself a very satisfied feeling. He had not expected to wear down McGonagall this quickly. The Gryffindors were dismissed, but before he left, Bruce caught Snape giving him a very odd look. The young Slytherin simply turned his face to stone and returned to the dormitory, where he began contemplating the appropriate response for when the bigoted members of his house decided to make an issue out of his heroics. He may have to break someone's arm after all.

* * *

The incident came the next day, as Bruce was in the halls, getting back from another research session in the library. He found himself faced by none other than Crabbe, Goyle, and their weasel-faced boss. Bruce got his wand ready.

"So, you fancy yourself some great hero that rescues idiot mudbloods?" Draco sneered.

"No, I'm not a hero, just a human being. Which is more than can be said about you Malfoy." Bruce kept his voice perfectly monotone as he replied.

"I should have known someone of your type would cause trouble. It's the only thing you can expect from someone with filthy mudblood parents." Looking back upon the incident, Draco Malfoy would regret that last sentence. He never even saw it coming, and before he knew what was happening, the Malfoy heir was on the floor clutching his stomach. Crabbe and Goyle moved for their wands, but were stopped dead in their tracks by a murderous glare from Bruce. By the time they realized that they were risking Malfoy's wrath by not getting involved, it was too late. Bruce had already cast 'Stupefy' upon the two bodyguards. Hurling Malfoy against the wall, Bruce began speaking in a very low, very dangerous tone of voice:

"Consider this your first and only warning Malfoy. Don't make me repeat myself." To ram his point home, Bruce punched the boy in the gut yet again before throwing him against the wall in the most painful way he could. Malfoy would probably require many more such "reminders" in the future, but this should give Bruce some breathing room for the time being. The heir to the Wayne fortune composed himself and returned on his way back to the dormitory, leaving a whimpering pure-blood in his wake.

After this, Bruce's life returned to the quiet solitude he had enjoyed early in the year. He once again threw himself into his investigation of the dog and other matters and continued to comb the library, book by book, looking for something resembling a lead. Truth be told, it was getting incredibly frustrating for the boy. He felt sure that the information he wanted was there, he simply wasn't able to properly connect it. His pursuit gobbled up his free time, especially since it was coupled with his already grueling study habits, that when the members of his house acted grumpier than usual, he had no idea that it was because Potter had dealt them a crushing blow at the Quidditch match. Initially, he took no real notice of these events, aside from giving Malfoy a death glare when it looked like the boy was going to take out his frustrations about the game on Bruce. It was when he heard that some Gryffindors talking about Potter's broom being hexed during the match that Bruce's curiosity was piqued. First suspect was Malfoy, but then Bruce remembered that it takes especially dark magic to interfere on that scale, which ruled Malfoy out. Still, between this, the troll, and the dog, Bruce couldn't help but think that there was a larger picture being woven around him and he simply didn't have the right perspective to see it. Such thoughts irritated him to no end. Bruce felt sure that someone had let the troll inside, so it raised an eyebrow from him when he saw Professor Snape limping around right after Halloween. He wasn't sure if there was a connection or not, so he simply filed it under the 'interesting facts' section of his brain. As a result of all of this, Bruce was beginning to question whether or not you could trust anything about this school.

Continuing the string of interesting occurrences, Granger had been prowling the library lately, as well. Careful to keep out of sight, Bruce noticed that she seemed very intent on finding something. While he had his attention split in various directions while performing his research, she seemed very focused on a single objective. It seemed to Bruce that while she knew what she was looking for, the girl didn't know where it was hidden. Could it have something to do with Potter's broom? She had become quite close to the other two Gryffindors after the troll incident. Once, Bruce had mused over the fact that they had yet to speak with him or thank him for his help, but then thought better of it. In addition to being a 'nasty Slytherin' which prompted everyone to continually second-guess his motives, there was also the fact that Bruce was not an easy person to get ahold of. He was rarely where people would expect a normal first year to be, and he made a point of finding places in the library where people would not think to look for him. And even if they did finally corner him, Bruce's rude disposition made any conversation difficult. Not even his fellow Slytherins tried speaking to him, though they certainly whispered about him behind his back, especially after the troll incident. It was really quite expectable that he would receive no communication from them, and if anything it made his life less complicated.

However, Bruce could not help but remember one near-encounter in the first potions class after the troll incident. He was already sitting down and was preparing his materials for Snape's latest attempt at teaching when he saw none other than Hermione Granger herself walking towards him. Bruce waited for her to arrive, and once she reached him, she looked ready to speak. He maintained his usual blank expression, but was secretly curious as to what she would say. In the end, his curiosity was forced to go without this knowledge, as she was then called to the other side of the room by Potter and Weasley. She did not try to make contact with him again, and Bruce could not help but assume that the girl had been warned off by her fellow Gryffindors.

Time passed as the holidays came ever closer and closer. Bruce went to class like any regular student and continued to make himself go as unnoticed as possible. Defense Against the Dark Arts was embarrassingly easy, and Quirrell had to be the single most incompetent teacher in the school. Assuming that one could actually decipher his lectures through all the stuttering emanating from his mouth, what they were being taught seemed to be incredibly mediocre material. What was the point of learning about a troll's feeding habits if they were not going to taught how to defend themselves from one? Especially after the Halloween disaster.

Charms was something of an interesting diversion, if only for the novelty of it. Transfiguration was somewhat trying, though not because of the actual material. Instead, it was due to the fact that McGonagall had decided to keep an eye on him, and he realized it. Were inter-house relations really so bad that one simply act of decency on his part would warrant this much attention from a teacher? Nevertheless, he would sometimes catch her hovering over him, as if trying to scrutinize his motives. Bruce had a sneaking suspicion that she realized he was holding back during class. There was one incident where she nearly called him on it. He was sitting there, doing his lesson, when she walked over to him and began speaking.

"Have everything well in hand, Mr. Wayne?" He looked around and saw that, thankfully, none of the other Slytherins were aware of what was going on.

"Yes, Professor."

"You do know that I have no prejudice against giving points to Slytherin." She was obviously prodding him.

"Yes, Professor."

He was extremely thankful when that particular class came to an end.

Surprisingly enough, Professor Snape did not even seem to register Bruce's existence. That was the one teacher Bruce had expected to speak to him, if only to warn him about associating with the 'hated' Gryffindors. Yet, day in and day out, the boy would attend class in the dungeon and be almost completely ignored. He would have thought that the fact that he was the only person there who consistently was not partnered with anyone (no one could stand him) would have resulted in at least some sort of remark. There was a surprising sense of relief in relation to that. Perhaps the potions master simply realized that some people prefer to be left alone.

Before the break for the holidays, one last thing that became of interest to the young boy. He had become quite good at navigating the halls at night during his sojourns, learning to recognize the soft, scratching sound made by Ms. Norris as she prowled the halls, so getting caught by Filch was steadily becoming less of a danger to his mind. Peeves was still a problem that had to be dealt with, but one that seemed more like a simple annoyance rather than a pressing concern as time went by. It was during one of these late-night journeys that Bruce had stumbled across something quite wondrous. It was just before the holiday break. Bruce had owled Alfred that he wanted to spend Christmas in Wayne Manor, and the Butler responded that he would see to it. As such, Bruce wanted to get in one last bit of wandering before returning to his ancestral home when he found it. It was near the library, identified by a suit of armor outside, and located in what seemed to be a long-unused classroom. It had writing on the top of it and stood as high as the ceiling. When he looked into it, Bruce felt his heart break. There were his parents, looking just as he remembered them before……well, before. Bruce knew it was a trick, a spell of some kind, but he could not look away. He just could not look away from what had been the primary source of joy and life and love and hope and courage and kindness and…….

He sat there for the rest of the night, just slipping away before dawn.

* * *

He was in something of a daze for the next few days. He barely registered the fact that he was on his way to the train station at Hogwarts. On the train home, he was completely unaware of the fact that Granger was attempting to talk to him, only to give up and return to her car. The vision in the mirror completely and totally occupied his thoughts. He knew he should research it, find out what magic it was using, see if it could affect his mind somehow. Yet, he knew he would not, because he had to see them again before he could do anything in regards to that mirror.

Arriving at King's Cross, he found Alfred waiting for him, looking quite pleased to see the boy.

"Welcome back, Master Bruce. Enjoying school so far?"

"Yes Alfred. It's fine." The butler, however, was far from convinced.

"Are you sure, Master Bruce. You seem a little...distratcted." Bruce did not even look at the longtime family friend.

"I'm fine Alfred. Really." Yet, he remained in this state all through the drive to airport and all through the plane ride back to Gotham.

Over the break, he tried to forget the mirror by losing himself in the memories conjured by being back in the Manor and for a time he managed to succeed. Yet, Alfred could not help but notice that the boy would get this far-away look in his eyes, as if he were a world away. Bruce returned to the school a day early, and quickly made his way to the room that had engaged his thoughts, only to find it empty. As empty as his soul. For a moment, Bruce was about to do something he had sworn he would never do again. He was about to cry. He desperately fought back the tears that wanted to force their way down his cheeks. It looked like the battle would be decided one way or the other when Bruce heard a voice behind him.

"It seems that another of my students has discovered the allure of the Mirror of Erised. I must confess, I was expecting to see another here." Bruce couldn't find it within himself to look at the Headmaster, he was so ashamed. Dumbledore walked over to the boy.

"Do not be hard on yourself, dear boy. Many grown men, trained in the ways of the world, have fallen prey to the mirror. I expect that you have deduced why." Bruce nodded, or at least he tried to.

"It…..it shows what you want….." the boy tried to say.

"In a way, dear boy. The mirror can only show the deepest desire within your heart. You had your parents cruelly taken from you, and it is your fondest wish to have them back. Therefore, that is what the mirror will show you. I have seen a similar case just recently." Bruce finally summoned the willpower to look at the Headmaster and was comforted by the understanding he saw in the old man's eyes. The wizard continued.

"However, the mirror could not show you any truth or knowledge, and men have wasted their lives watching it. Some have even gone mad, tortured by the thought that their deepest desires could become reality. I have moved the mirror someplace out of reach and I ask you not to look for it. I know how angry you feel, and the loneliness that comes from it, but you must seek happiness by living your life, not hiding from it in a dusty room. Now, it is a beautiful day today, one that asks to be lived properly. Perhaps you would like to do so?" Bruce smiled at that and fought the urge to hug the man.

"I think I would, Headmaster. Thank you….for everything." And with that, the boy exited the room, pondering the experience with the enigmatic wizard. What truly caught Bruce's interest was line Dumbledore had dropped about expecting another student. Who could that be?

* * *

After this, life once again settled into the routine Bruce had become accustomed to while at Hogwarts. While he still devoted time to the mystery surrounding the dog, this took up increasingly little amounts of his time as he began to focus more on his schoolwork. He was showing a talent in both Potions and Defense against the Dark Arts, and Snape seemed to notice this, though he said nothing to the boy about it. He seemed preoccupied by harassing the Gryffindors. However, the potions master did continue to give Bruce that odd look he had first seen on Halloween. Quirrell however, continued to be afraid of his own shadow, oblivious to everything else, leading Bruce again to wonder why someone as clever as Dumbledore tolerated the man. Granger was still spending time searching the library, sometimes accompanied by her two friends, and sometimes not. Whatever it was she was looking for, her frustration over a lack of success was becoming obvious to Bruce, though it might not be so for less observant members of the school. At one time he considered approaching her about it, as a way of pooling resources. The more he thought about it, however, the more he became convinced it would result in too many needless complications. Besides, he did not need or want anyone's help. He was perfectly capable of finding answers on his own. Instead, he resolved merely to keep an eye on her and to watch for anything that could be indicative of advancement on her part.

In time, his decision to keep Granger monitored paid off. Suddenly, she stopped scouring the library and during Potions class, she seemed quite pre-occupied with something. While this would be normal for most students, Bruce knew for a fact that when a brain such as Hermione Granger was pre-occupied to the point that she was not totally and completely absorbed in her work, there had to be something important going on. A look at Weasley and Potter showed them to be similarly excited about something, though they did their best to hide it, considering they were in Snape's class, after all. Bruce knew he would not get anything by watching them here - they would not dare speak of anything that might be overheard by the head of Slytherin house. The boy resolved to shadow the trio until he learned what had gotten them so excited. Could it have something to do with the dog? The boy doubted that they would have forgotten the experience. Energized by the possibilities of some genuine answers, or at the least some fresh leads, Bruce was determined keep the trio carefully watched and if they made any sort of move, he would know about it. It would be extremely difficult, but Bruce Wayne was not one to back down from a challenge.

* * *

Notes:

Well, here's part four, and like I said in the last chapter, the quality is starting to go down. Again, I promise that I have taken steps to fix this in the upcoming _Bruce Wayne and the Chamber of Secrets_, so don't lynch me yet. Also, things do pick up when our hero learns gets more information about the Socerer's Stone, which will be next chapter.

Also, a bit of clarification on Bruce's connections to the wizarding world - he doesn't have any. In this story he is the only member of his family within memory (recent or otherwise) to display any sort of magical aptitude. Therefore, the Wayne family doesn't have any sort of prestige or influence in the wizarding world, especiallywhen compared to the muggle world. This is a deliberate decision on my part because Bruce's status as a "mudblood" is going to be an important plot point at various stages of the stories I have planned. As a side effect of this, no one has yet to connect the anti-social Slytherin with the "Prince of Gotham". Of course, the situation is not going to stay that way, and I've got plans for how Bruce's status as richer than God will affect the various cast members.


	5. Advancement

Bruce Wayne and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter Five: Advancement

In the time that followed, Bruce found one major stumbling block to his plan - he would have to attend a Quidditch match. To him, the fuss everyone made over it was extremely silly, but then again, he thought similar about a good deal more than just Quidditch. So when the day came, Bruce found himself in the stands along with the rest. He saw Granger and Weasley sitting next to the Longbottom boy and Hagrid the gameskeeper. He also noticed that Draco Malfoy was sitting surprisingly close to the group of Gryffindors. Inwardly, Bruce groaned - with Malfoy around, there was no chance he could catch Granger and Weasley drop any sort of hint. He briefly considered leaving and going back to the dormitory, but decided not to. Since he was here, he might as well watch the game and maybe learn what all the fuss was about. It might not be quite the exercise in tedium he expected it to be.

Tothe Slytherin'severlasting surprise, it was not. The game was over so quickly that he never had time to get bored, and the sideshow of Weasley tackling Malfoy proved to be great fun. The Gryffindors certainly looked pleased with themselves, and Harry was positively glowing. Dumbledore himself came out to the field to congratulate the young seeker. It was then that an idea crossed Bruce's mind - in the post-victory euphoria, the group might discuss whatever it was that had them excited. It was a long shot, but Bruce was getting desperate. He had to know what was going on, and Potter's group was the only lead he had. So, he followed Weasley and Granger as they made their way from the stands to wait for Potter. It was tough, loitering in just the right way so as not to arouse suspicion, but his efforts were rewarded when he saw Potter arrive with a serious look on his face. The trio ducked into a nearby room, and Bruce rushed to put his ear to the door. He could not hear much, and caught only the tail end of the conversation, but what he did hear proved to be the piece of information he had been looking for.

"A Sorcerer's Stone…."he whispered aloud as he made his way to the Slytherin dormitory. "This explains a great deal."

The next day, Bruce spent some time in the library reviewing the situation thus far. The dog on the third floor was guarding a Sorcerer's Stone, which was capable of granting anyone who drank from it immortality. However, Bruce doubted that the dog was the only line of defense - something as powerful as the Stone needed as much protection as possible. There was also the fact that this Stone had the Gryffindor trio quite upset. They were not pursuing this matter out of idle curiosity - Granger's frustration in her search was proof enough of that. So, why was it so important to them? Obviously they did not plan to use it themselves - why would they? More to the point, none of them were the type to steal anything heavily guarded by the staff. Perhaps….perhaps they knew of someone who _did_ want to steal it. That would make sense. Being Gryffindors, they would naturally be inclined to investigate the matter themselves, and probably take on the thief, as well, considering how stupidly heroic Gryffindors could be.

However, most of this is just assumption and theory - no hard evidence to back it up. It would be dangerous and foolish to make any sort of move without learning for sure why the trio was so interested in the stone. That begged the question of how to learn what they had planned. A direct confrontation would only result in a direct denial. He would have to catch them unaware, maybe separate one of them from the others and then perform an interrogation. Now that would be a treacherous undertaking - anything could go wrong at any given time. Such a move would have to be meticulously planned to the very last detail. It would take time, which Bruce had the odd feeling he was running out of. These thoughts kept Bruce's attention for the next several days, until he observed an interesting incident in the library. Hagrid, the gamekeeper, was poking around the library, which was unusual, to Bruce kept an eye on him. It was when the trio arrived to speak with the large man that Bruce began to spy on them. He missed the beginning, but what he caught was just as good

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact, about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy -" _'Fluffy?'_ Bruce thought as he heard Potter speaking.

"SHHHH" that was Hagrid. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh -"

"See you later, then," Potter said and Hagrid then exited. Bruce continued to listen.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" That was Granger.

"Do you think it has anything to do with the Stone?"

"I'm going to see what section he was in." That was Weasley, and a minute later, he was back.

"Dragons! Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."_

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him." That was Potter again. After this, Bruce slipped away. Could 'Fluffy' be the name of the dog? If so, whoever named it had an interesting sense of humor. So…Hagrid knew about the defenses around the Stone. It was not surprising - Dumbledore clearly thought the man had his uses. However, if what Potter said about Dragons was true…..it certainly made things interesting. It could be a good piece of blackmail material, but the problem was that the notion that Hagrid having a dragon was so ridiculous, any threat would fall short because they would know that no teacher would believe him, wouldn't they? It might be best to sit on this for awhile. He could try and listen in on the trio when they visited the hut later, but Bruce decided not to. He did not like the look of that dog Hagrid kept, and would not be surprised if it could sniff him out in a second. The boy then realized that he still did not know why the trio was so interested in the Stone. Cursing himself for not staying longer, he began to formulate a plan to get a member of the trio alone. Perhaps he could whip up one of those truth potions he had read about……

This plan of his took up Bruce's attention for the next several days, though he did try to keep an eye on the trio and their appearances. He decided that Granger would be the one to corner. She might be the most magically competent of the three, but she also spent less time with the other two, which would give him a larger window of opportunity. The question now was how to get her to tell the truth. Once again hitting the books, Bruce found what he was sure would be a way of exacting the wanted results. It was known as Veritaserum and he discovered it in a book on truth potions. It was a bit complicated for a first year, albeit an extremely advanced first year, and procuring the necessary ingredients would be something of a tedious hassle. Still, he expected that the trouble would not be in concocting it, but rather in administering it to Granger. She was very clever, and trying to both get her isolated and then give her the serum might prove too complicated. Perhaps if he used a binding charm on her once she was a safe distance away from her friends…..

Needless to say, it was a complicated and slow going process. A further complication arrived when he noticed Malfoy giving the trio evil grins in class. This, coupled with the increasing amount of time the Gryffindors were spending in Hagrid's hut, left Bruce with two theories. The first stated that Malfoy had somehow discovered the existence of the Stone and was making plans of his own. This seemed extremely unlikely, given Malfoy's behavior. It was more along the lines of how he acted when he schemed to get Potter in trouble with that stupid duel, which led to the other option. Hagrid had a dragon at the school and Malfoy was going to get his enemies in trouble because of it. Most likely, the boy was going to simply tell a member of the staff, but surely he could not be so stupid as to think that a teacher would simply take him at his word? Considering this, Malfoy would probably attempt to catch them in the act of doing something with the fire-breather. Deciding this was the likeliest option, Bruce decided to keep Malfoy under close watch. The moment the blonde tried anything, Bruce would be there.

* * *

He did not have to wait very long. One evening, Bruce saw the boy sneak out of the dormitory sans Crabbe and Goyle. The absence of Malfoy's omni-present thugs told Bruce that something was up. Moving as quietly as he could, he trailed Malfoy down the halls, but then he heard a familiar soft, scratching sound. It was Ms. Norris, on the prowl for students doing exactly what Bruce was engaged in. Cursing his luck, Bruce broke off his pursuit of Malfoy and turned down several hallways, making sure that he had lost the cat. He was about to get back on the trail when he came face to face with a very unexpected individual. Neville Longbottom, looking quite nervous, was right in front of Bruce. The Gryffindor moved for his wand, and began to speak

"N-n-now…..stand aside." The boys' hand was shaking. "I've got something very important to do a-a-and I'm not going to let some snake stop me." Longbottom did his best to appear confident, but Bruce could only mentally roll his eyes.

"Get out of here Longbottom, I don't have time to deal with you."

"I-I'm going to help Harry and Hermione a-a-and there's nothing you can do to stop me." The Gryffindor was showing a surprising amount of confidence for once. Bruce did not look forward to having to destroy that, but he was on a schedule.

"You're obviously not thinking Longbottom. By telling me you're going after Granger and Potter, you've informed me that they are out of bed as well. I'm sure McGonagall would love to hear that. No…..I have a better idea. I'll simply go get Professor Snape. _He_ would love to hear that three Gryffindors are out of bed. Oh, the punishments he could think up….. You know, he might just go ahead and turn you into a toad, Longbottom, and then keep you in a car on his desk. Any time a student gets out of line he'll simply point to the jar and say 'This is a former student who was stupid enough to let me catch him breaking the rules. Perhaps you would like to join him?' And then, one day, he might just let you out for Ms. Norris to have a bit of fun with. Would you like that Longbottom?" Bruce was using his low, threatening tone and keeping the Gryffindor fixed with an icy glare he had picked up from watching the potions master he referred to in his threat. The poor boy looked ready to cry and shook his head no. Bruce decided to wrap this up. "Then get out of my sight. Now." And with that, the victim ran off to his house, stumbling along the way. Sure that Longbottom was no longer a factor, Bruce turned his attention back to finding Malfoy. He sped down the hall, hoping to pick up the fellow Slytherin's trail. He then heard something around the corner at the end of the corridor, headed towards it, and turned the corner only to find himself directly in the gaze of Minerva McGonagall. The Deputy Headmistress already had a perturbed expression on her face when he arrived, and seeing Bruce there only made her look even more upset.

"And just what are you doing out of bed, Mr. Wayne?" Bruce froze. He began to conceive of something when McGonagall interrupted his thoughts. "I suppose you're going to give me more nonsense about a dragon being on school premises?" From the tone of her voice, Bruce thought it was a question that had no right answer.

"But Professor, Potter really does have a dragon! He's got it right now and is going to-" Malfoy's pleading was cut off by the head of Gryffindor house.

"Such rubbish!" She grabbed both Bruce and Malfoy by the backs of their robes. "I shall see Professor Snape about this and suggest that he learn to rein in his students." Bruce stifled a groan. The attention of the cruelest teacher in the school was definitely something he did not want to have, even if the man was biased in favor of his own house.

"Be aware that I am going to deduct twenty points each from Slytherin for this. Perhaps that will teach you respect for the rules and not to go gallivanting off in the middle of the night!" This remark actually did not bother Bruce that much, since house points did not carry any great meaning to him. Still, best not to let McGonagall know that. They were close to Snape's dungeon when Filch arrived. He took the Gryffindor aside and started talking about "Potter" and "Granger". Bruce winced, slightly. An entire night wasted, and he could have avoided all of it by simply staying in his dormitory. The boy began to curse his foolishness when he realized Filch had left and Snape was now standing before him and Malfoy.

"What is going on here?" the Potions Master asked with his characteristic sneer.

"I found these two roaming the halls," McGonagall replied, "It seems Mr. Malfoy here was tricked by Mr. Potter into thinking that there was a dragon in the school so that he would run off after dark and get into trouble, which is exactly what happened."

"And what about the other?" Snape asked, gesturing towards Bruce. Both Professors then looked at the boy for an answer. This time, however, Bruce was ready.

"I was up late studying and I saw Malfoy leave the dormitory, Professors. I knew he shouldn't be out, so I followed in the hopes of getting him back before he caused trouble and lost us points." It was the best kind of lie – one with a sprinkling of truth.

"A noble excuse, Mr. Wayne, but still just an excuse." McGonagall said, then turned to Snape. "I've already taken house points, and will arrange for them to serve detention with Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger." Snape nodded and the Gryffindor stormed off, presumably to deal with the two students she just mentioned. The two Slytherin boys, meanwhile, remained standing in front of Snape. The teacher approached them.

"It was all Potter's fault, sir! He and that mudblood of his-" Malfoy's excuse was cut off by the ever-irate professor.

"While Potter may be directly responsible, that is now irrelevant. You have just lost this house points thanks to your foolishness and I will not tolerate fools in Slytherin!" Bruce had to suppress a snort at that last remark, thinking of Crabbe, Goyle, and a few others. "Now get out of my sight and count yourself lucky that you escaped with a mere detention!" At that last command, Malfoy turned on his heel and zipped down the corridor, on his way back to the dormitory. Bruce, however, was not one to be easily intimidated, even when he should be. He made a simple turn and calmly walked away. Though he could not be sure, Bruce thought he felt Snape's eyes on him, giving him that odd look the boy had received before.

Out of curiosity, Bruce checked the level of house points the next day and sure enough, forty points were missing from Slytherin. However, this was overshadowed by the fact that Gryffindor had lost one hundred points, thereby putting them in third place, just barely ahead of Hufflepuff. Bruce could only imagine what Potter and Granger were going through, given their previous status as "golden". What truly upset Bruce, though he never let it show, was the way Malfoy had managed to turn the situation to his advantage. The pureblood had gone around the house saying that he had cleverly exposed Potter and that it was worth a mere forty points to knock down the Gryffindor golden boy a few pegs and put the house itself in third place. He failed to mention that the loss of points for Slytherin gave Ravenclaw a chance at overtaking them, but no one seemed to care. This only made Bruce more upset – last night should have dealt an embarrassing blow against Malfoy's hold over Slytherin, and instead the incident only made him as strong as ever. If Bruce could not defeat some first year, how could he hope to take down the likes of the Falcone's and the Maroni's back in Gotham? One bright spot in all this was the fact that Bruce's presence in notable events had once again been forgotten in the rush to see how it affected the more famous members of the school, such as Potter and Malfoy. There were a few nasty looks, and some muttered insults, but those meant nothing to the boy, and were really par for the course for a muggle-born in Slytherin. And on the odd occasion that a response was needed, the spells used were effective enough to dissuade others of the idea that Bruce Wayne would make an easy target for abuse.

* * *

There was one facet of the situation that Bruce knew he could turn to his advantage – the shared detention. This would give him the chance he needed to corner one of the trio and interrogate them about the Stone. He initially considered going after Granger, his initial target, but abandoned that idea. She may be down, but she would still be a tough nut to crack, and there was no need for that when he could focus on her companion. Bruce was careful to notice Potter's sullen behavior over the past few days, which told him the boy was at a low point. This would leave him wide open for a surprise confrontation, and to make things better, Bruce did not have to worry that much about the Gryffindor's skill with a wand. He had talent, but not enough to pose either a threat, or an impediment, as Granger would. Confident that his investigation would finally begin moving forward again after a frustratingly long halt, Bruce bided his time and counted the days until the time the punishment was due to occur. And so, when he got the note stating that he was to report to the entrance hall at eleven o'clock, the boy actually had to work to contain his impatience, especially in front of Malfoy. He was so close…..and there could be no foul-ups this time. After Potter and Granger arrived, Bruce began to go over his plan in his head, questioningly and reworking some details at the last minute, trying to decide whether to open strong, or try to trick one of them into dropping something. He was so preoccupied with this that he barely registered Filch's empty threats while the students were led to Hagrid's hut. Bruce was aware enough to resist the urge to roll his eyes when Malfoy began worrying about werewolves – there was not even a full moon tonight – but he cursed his luck when Hagrid announced that the two Slytherins would be searching the forest together. But then, he realized he could turn this into an advantage, since Malfoy had been acting far too snide for his own good lately. He would not have to worry about Fang, given what Hagrid said (and Bruce cursed his own stupidity for thinking that the dog could be a threat) so he would have Malfoy all to his own…….

Bruce waited for the Gryffindors to be almost out of sight before he made his move. Malfoy had been complaining all the time since the group had split up, and now focused his attention on Bruce,

"What were you doing out in the halls that night? I know that it wasn't the excuse you feed to that fool, McGonagall. Have you got something of your own going on? It would be smart to tell me, unless you want me to make the house pariah. If you did tell me, I could make you some powerful friends. You're not the most popular person, but I could change that. All you would need to do would be to show some house pride." When Bruce did not answer, Malfoy snorted. "What does someone like you know about proper house loyalty and pride? You're just the mudblood spawn of two pathetic muggles." Malfoy had obviously forgotten their last encounter, and needed to be reminded of who he was dealing with. Moving so quick that Malfoy did not have time to raise his wand, Bruce punched his fellow Slytherin once again in the gut. He then grabbed hold of the boy and threw him against the nearest tree. After repeating the process a couple of times, Bruce then pushed the vaunted pureblood to the ground.

"You'll pay for that! I'll tell-" Bruce cut him off.

"Tell what? That a high and mighty pureblood such as yourself was knocked around by a lowly mudblood? Yes, you do that, Malfoy. Let everyone know that you had to run to some teacher because you were too weak and too much of a coward to deal with me yourself." Bruce was once again using that low, threatening tone and fixed Malfoy with a gaze that looked straight from Snape's repertoire. Malfoy made for his wand, only to realize that he didn't have it, Bruce did. The "lowly mudblood" then slowly walked forward, making sure to look as menacing as possible, and picked Malfoy up and rammed his back up against a tree. Bruce then took out his wand.

"You're so concerned with house pride, Malfoy. Let's test that." Bruce then spoke a couple words, and the end of his wand started burning. He then set a small piece of wood on fire as a demonstration and placed the still-burning wand close to Malfoy's face.

"Someone who truly is confident of their importance to Slytherin would know that people wouldn't care if his face were to suddenly become melted off. They wouldn't treat him like a freak, a 'house pariah'. They would say 'Draco Malfoy was so proud of being a pureblood Slytherin that he didn't scream when a mudblood burned his face off', wouldn't they? Shall we find out? I won't tell anyone if you do scream."

"Y-you're crazy! You'll be expelled!" The fear was evident in his voice.

"Why should I care? I am, after all, nothing more than a 'lowly mudblood' who is not that popular anyway and knows nothing about house loyalty." Malfoy began to whimper when Bruce threw him to the ground, next to where Bruce had dropped the fellow Slytherin's wand. There was no danger of reprisal – the terror in Malfoy's eyes assured him of that. As expected, Malfoy lit the signal, and then started running off in the direction of Hagrid and the others. Bruce calmly followed, Fang close by. Eventually, he caught up with the rest, just in time to hear Malfoy demanding that someone else be partnered with Bruce. When he arrived, Malfoy made sure that the games keeper was between him and the fellow Slytherin. Potter and Granger were not sure whether to find this humorous or disturbing.

"Keep him away from me! He's crazy!" Bruce had guessed that Hagrid would not take the boy seriously, and he was right.

"Malfoy, we don' have time fer this rubbish. He ain't gonna harm yeh, so why don't you two –"

"No! I won't go back with him!" Malfoy never took his eyes off of Bruce. Hagrid sighed.

"Fine, we'll change groups. Harry, yeh go with Fang and the 'lunatic'". Bruce smiled inwardly – this was going perfectly. He walked with Harry for roughly twenty minutes before deciding to go for the surprise attack.

"Why do you think that someone is trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone?" Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

* * *

Notes:

Well, it's chapter five, and things are kind of starting to happen. Plus, the writing starts to stabilize a bit in this installment, which is also a plus.

And look - a cliffhanger! Well, not really a cliffhanger in the usual sense of leaving off in the middle of some really dramatic event, but hopefully just as aggravating.


	6. Conversations

Bruce Wayne and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter Six: Conversations

"What?" The Gryffindor was completely dumbstruck. This was the last thing he had expected from his Slytherin companion.

"I asked you a question, Potter. I expect an answer." Bruce saw the other boy hesitate. "Don't try to lie to me. Slytherins are experts at lying, so we know when someone else is trying to." He let that statement sink in. For a minute, they both just stood there, before Harry responded.

"How do you know about the Stone?"

"You're avoiding the question." Another minute of silence passed between them and then Bruce noticed that Harry saw something. It was Unicorn blood, slowly seeping their way. Harry set off following it back to its source and Bruce followed, not about to let the Gryffindor off that easily. He was just about to remind Potter of his question when they saw it.

The Unicorn was dead alright, but what caught their attention was the hooded figure bending over it, drinking its blood. Fang bolted and Bruce drew his wand, determined to put up a fight. Harry, meanwhile, was stiff with fear, but then fell to his knees, as though struck with some great agony that Bruce could not see. The Slytherin leapt in front of his classmate, raised his wand and was about to cast a spell when a centaur jumped in between them and the hooded figure. This new presence caused the hooded being to vanish into the night, before Bruce could think of anything that might stop him. The Slytherin then helped Potter get to his feet and the two faced the centaur.

"Are you all right?" The centaur asked, directed at Harry. Bruce didn't give the fellow boy a chance to reply.

"What was that?" The centaur ignored him, keeping his eyes locked on Harry, who motioned that he was okay.

"You are the Potter boy. You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker that way." The centaur lowered himself, but before he got on, Harry stopped.

"What about him?" he referred to Bruce, "I can't just leave him here." The centaur looked at the Slytherin, then grunted his acceptance. The two students got on the centaur's back just in time for two more to gallop up. Harry seemed to recognize one of them. There was an argument between the three centaurs over what was happening in the forest, and Bruce carefully listened to everything that was said. Soon, the other centaurs left and Firenze – the one the two had climbed on – was taking them through the forest. Harry asked Firenze a question about what was going on, but the centaur did not answer until later when he suddenly stopped.

"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is for?" Harry replied in the negative, and Bruce cut in.

"Unicorn blood has the ability to keep someone alive even though they may be close to death. However, it has the after-affect of only being able to live a half-life from then on. Only someone very desperate and with nothing to lose would even consider drinking it. That, or someone who knew they could find something else to fully restore them." Harry looked at his Slytherin companion curiously, but his attention was then drawn back to Firenze.

"Your fellow student is correct. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course! But who would want to…."

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?" Bruce saw Harry visibly pale at Firenze's last remark.

"Do you mean, that was Vol-" Harry was cut off by the sudden arrival of Granger and Hagrid, asking if he was alright. Harry told the games keeper where the dead Unicorn was, and Hagrid sauntered off to investigate. Bruce and Harry then slid off the centaur's back.

"Good luck, Harry Potter. The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times." With that, the centaur trotted off into the distance.

Bruce, meanwhile, was trying to put all of this together. If Voldemort was after the Stone, that would certainly explain Harry's interest, but the boy hadn't expected the centaur to mention the dark lord. Intent on getting answers, Bruce turned to Harry, who had clearly forgotten about him and was talking to Hermione.

"You still haven't answered my question, Potter." Hermione looked confused, but Harry simply turned to respond.

"Why are you interested?"

"I have my reasons. You're still avoiding the question." At that, Hermione decided to step in.

"Look, I don't know what happened out-" Bruce cut her off.

"I asked Potter why he thought the Stone was in danger of being stolen, and he ducked the question by following the unicorn blood to what was likely the dark lord Voldemort." The matter-of-fact tone of his voice took Hermione completely off guard. Harry looked ready to say something when Hagrid walked up.

"Alright, time fer yeh to be gettin' back to the school. I already sent Malfoy back to my hut with Fang. We'll meet him there and then you'd best be gettin' to bed." The games keeper started on the path back when Bruce took Harry aside.

"We'll discuss this on the way back to the castle once we're out of the forest." Harry might have called to Hagrid about this, but the Gryffindor clearly had more important things on his mind. The group eventually made it back to Hagrid's hut, finding Malfoy sulking. Hagrid told the students they could go, and a quick glare from Bruce caused Malfoy to put as much distance between his fellow Slytherin as possible, ensuring a private conversation.

"One last time, Potter – why did you think the Stone was in danger of being stolen." Harry gathered up his strength – the attack in the forest had clearly left him exhausted, but Bruce was not in a sympathetic mood – and began to speak.

"It started after Halloween, when we fought the troll." Bruce nodded for him to continue.

"We noticed that Snape had injured his leg, and then I walked in on him talking about Fluffy-"

"The three-headed dog."

"Yes, and he had injured his leg trying to get past it. Then, during the Quidditch match when I lost control of my broom, Hermione and Ron saw him cursing my broomstick. Then, after the match against Hufflepuff, I caught Snape threatening Professor Quirrell and trying to get information about Fluffy…"

"So you think that Snape is trying to get the Stone?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense!" that was Ms. Granger. "Since then, we've seen Snape threatening Quirrell over the defenses for the Stone and then barely a week ago, Harry heard Quirrell give in." Bruce mulled this over and then decided to finish it up.

"Taking into account what we just saw in the forest, Snape doesn't want the Stone for himself. He wants it for Voldemort. This is…..disconcerting." Bruce turned to ditch the two Gryffindors when Hermione grabbed his arm.

"You're not getting away that easily. Now you have to tell us how you knew about the Stone." Bruce tried giving her one of his threatening looks, but the girl just shrugged it off, completely unphased. Considering that he had nothing to lose, he detailed his investigation since the Charms corridor, how he paid attention to their actions, and overheard things. He conveniently left out the parts where he blatantly spied on them, however.

"Why didn't you come to us about this?" Hermione asked. "If you had simply tried talking to us, you wouldn't have had to spend all that time fretting." Bruce scowled again, but she continued to take no notice.

"I doubt that before tonight you would have been willing to tell me anything. I'm still a Slytherin, which means you would have thought I was out to get something on you. It is also beside the point – I know the details now, and that is what matters. I suggest we continue this tomorrow, when there is time."

"We'll meet you in the library after classes. I'm sure you know some place we can talk." Hermione had a knowing glint in her eye that Bruce was not sure he liked, but said nothing and separated from the Gryffindors, making his way back to Slytherin.

* * *

The next day, he arrived at the library before the Gryffindors, and took the time to ponder his next move. What was to be done about Voldemort? If the dark lord was after the Stone, and Snape had already broken Quirrell, then why was Potter not dead yet? The answer then hit him – Dumbledore. Voldemort was waiting for Dumbledore to leave the school. Only then would he make his move. Bruce was thinking of ways to combat a dark lord that had already been killed when Potter and Granger arrived, with Weasley in tow, who regarded Bruce with a look of suspicion. Bruce led them to one of the more out of the way corners, and then turned to speak. 

"What are we going to do about Voldemort?

"Don't say that name!" Weasley hissed. Bruce rolled his eyes.

"What can we do?" Potter began, "We don't have any proof that anyone is after the Stone. We're stuck."

"Besides, you-know-who wouldn't try anything with Dumbledore around." Weasley stated.

"And what about when Dumbledore is no longer around? He's not bound to the school – all it would take is some distraction to get him away, and then Potter's head is on a pike in front of the school for all to see." Harry winced at Bruce's remark, while Weasley just got angry.

"Nothing's going to happen to Harry, although I imagine a snake like you would like for something to happen." Bruce glared, but like Granger, Ron just shrugged it off. If anything, the glare only seemed to make him more upset. Hermione piped up.

"Ron, that was unfair. He's helped us four times this year."

"Four? You only brought up the troll and the charms corridor last night, and counting the forest, that's still only three." Ron's tone was quite defensive.

"On the train he found Neville's toad. That's four. I don't think someone who wants to see others hurt would bother to return a lost toad." Ron got quiet at that last statement, but muttered something that sounded like "He's still a Slytherin."

"Hermione's right, Ron. If he wanted to hurt us, he could have already. All he had to do was give me to Vol-, I mean, you-know-who last night." The boy-who-lived turned to Bruce and extended his hand. "Truce?" Bruce looked at the hand like it might bite him, but went ahead and shook it.

"I take it we're now in this together?" Bruce looked at each of the trio's reactions to his question. Hermione looked fine with it, Harry was guardedly optimistic and Ron seemed to expect Bruce to pull some trick any minute.

"Yes, we are." Potter responded.

* * *

The days that followed were not, to Bruce's dismay, concerned so much with preparing for Voldemort's inevitable move for power, but rather with the upcoming exams. The Slytherin was even more dismayed by the fact that the Gryffindor trio, the only people he knew had knowledge of Voldemort's plan, were completely preoccupied by studying. Still, he couldn't exactly blame them – this was a heavy burden to lay on the shoulders of eleven year old children. He had not exactly provided any great strategy for dealing with the dark lord, either, which was something that deeply, deeply disturbed the boy. However, on the occasions that he did mention the situation with the Stone to the trio, he could tell that the fear was at the back of Harry's mind as well.

The trio and their Slytherin ally grilled each other in order to prepare each other for the upcoming exams. Well, Bruce and Hermione grilled each other. Harry and Ron simply looked on in a slightly shocked and disgusted way while wondering how two people could memorize so much information without their heads exploding. The week of the tests came and went, and the trio plus one gathered at a spot near the lake where they had agreed to rendezvous after the exams were over. Bruce arrived early, as usual, and when the other three got there, he noticed that Harry was rubbing his scar.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know! It's hurt before – but not like this and not as often!"

"Could it be Voldemort?" Ron winced at Bruce's use of the dreaded name.

"I don't know, the last time it hurt this badly was in….." Harry locked eyes with Bruce and the Slytherin finished the boys' sentence for him.

"In the Forbidden Forest. Voldemort is making his move." With that, Bruce turned and started to rush back in the direction of the school. The Gryffindors followed, and Ron asked the question they were all thinking.

"Where are you going?"

"To get Dumbledore, which is what should have been done in the first place." Weasley asked the next pertinent question.

"You know where his room is?" Bruce shook his head.

"No, but I do know someone who does." It took them a few minutes, but the group finally found Professor McGonagall, who did not look pleased about being cornered by the four children.

"Where's Dumbledore?" The urgency in Bruce's voice took the Deputy Headmistress by surprise, but she was not about to be pushed about by a first year.

"Why do you wish to see him?"

"We….just need to." Harry had delivered that remark. McGonagall was unimpressed.

"Professor Dumbledore received an owl from the Ministry of Magic and has flown off to London."

"He can't be _gone_! Not now!" Harry's voiced had reached a frantic tone. Bruce decided they did not have time to waste going in circles.

"Voldemort is after the Sorcerer's Stone." McGonagall looked at the Slytherin like he had just sprouted a second head. Bruce continued talking.

"We need the Headmaster here _right now_ if the dark lord is going to be stopped." Despite the force Bruce put behind the statement, the head of Gryffindor house simply was not listening.

"Professor Dumbledore will return tomorrow. I don't know how you became aware of the Stone, but you can rest assured that it is well protected. And I urge you, Mr. Wayne, to take greater care when speaking that name aloud. Such things are not to be taken lightly, even if they are gone." Bruce could not believe what he was hearing, and from the looks on their faces, neither could the Gryffindors. McGonagall started again "Now, I suggest all of you go back outside, enjoy the rest of the day and not worry about things you don't have a complete grasp of." With that, the professor turned and walked away, leaving four dumbstruck students in her wake. Bruce's mind began racing to find options about what to do next.

"It's tonight." Harry began, "It will happen tonight. Snape has the information he needs, and now that Dumbledore is gone, there's nothing left to stop him. I'd bet he sent that owl himself as a way of getting Dumbledore out of the castle."

"So, what are we going to do?" Ron's question was interrupted by an elbow from Bruce, who had noticed that Snape was heading right towards them.

"Good afternoon children." The potions master began "You shouldn't be inside on a day like this. Loitering around like this would make some think that you're up to something, and Gryffindor can't really afford to lose anymore points, can it?" The cold tone to his voice sent a chill up Bruce's spine. Snape then turned to the young Slytherin. "I would expect that a competent student such as yourself would not spend time around such obvious troublemakers. They can be a bad influence, prompting an otherwise obedient student to do things that could get them into trouble." He looked directly at Bruce while delivering that last remark, and immediately the boy knew that Snape had learned about the threats to Malfoy he made in the Forbidden Forest. The four students turned to leave, but Snape decided to get in one last remark.

"Be warned, Potter – any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally see to it that you are expelled." The professor strode off in the direction of the staffroom.

Once they got to the stairs, Harry began speaking to the others.

"One of us has to go and keep an eye on him – wait outside the staffroom and follow him if he leaves it."

"I'll do it." Bruce said.

"Why you?" Hermione asked.

"Simple – I'm a Slytherin. Snape won't be as suspicious if he sees me hanging around. Just because I'm associating with some Gryffindors, it doesn't mean that I'm automatically one of them and Snape is still biased towards his own house."

"What if he sees you?" Ron asked.

"I'll simply ask him a question regarding the potion he tested us on for the exam. Something just obscure enough to divert his attention."

"Right, the rest of us will go watch the Charms corridor." Harry stated, then turned to Ron and Hermione. "Let's go."'

* * *

Well, six down, and only two to go. An alliance is made, information exchanged, and Bruce know thinks he knows just what is going on at the school.

Speaking of information, I'm a bit surprised at the lack of response over the previous chapter. I figured that having the main character threaten to burn someone's face off would register more of a reaction from my audience. Oh well.


	7. Obstacle Course

Bruce Wayne and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter Seven: Obstacle Course

The group had now separatedand Bruce headed back down the hall to the staffroom, pondering just what to ask the potions master that would sound like a genuine question. Perhaps something about the lasting effects of the forgetfulness potion? Or whether or not it could be used to alter someone's personality? He continued the back and forth in his mind for several minutes until finally the door to the staffroom opened and Snape walked out. He turned and saw the Slytherin boy doing his best to look inconspicuous.

"Looking for something, Mr. Wayne?" Snape looked directly at the first year andhe look in the man's eyes told Bruce that the teacher was already on to him. The boy thought it was as if the professor could read his mind somehow, but resolved not to give in easily.

"I merely had a question regarding the forgetfulness potion, sir." Snape nodded for him to continue. "It seems to me that simply by diluting the completed mix with small amounts of plain water could cause a reaction that makes it act as a way of altering someone's personality in addition to removing memory." Bruce put all his efforts into sounding like a merely curious student, in the hopes that Snape might go ahead and but it. A bit of a smirk crossed the adult Slytherin's face.

"Very observant, Mr. Wayne. However, I cannot help but wonder if Ms. Granger had a hand in pointing out this interesting fact?" Bruce knew that Snape was baiting him, but was not about to back down.

"I'm capable of making observations on my own and without anyone's help." Bruce did his best to make the statement sound indignant.

"I'm sure. I warn you, Mr. Wayne – some ingredients, while looking harmless enough, prove toxic when mixed together. Keep this in mind when deciding who you spend your time with. Now, I suggest that you heed my earlier advice about the outdoors, unless you would prefer that I arrange for you to spend some time getting to know Mr. Malfoy better." Bruce knew thathe was beingwarned off in a verydangerousway, so he decided to cut his losses and meet up with the others. There was no chance of spying on Snape now, anyway. Defeated, Bruce made his way to the rendezvous point Harry had mentioned, and found the Gryffindors looking quite distressed.

"I lost Snape." Bruce decided to just get it out in the open.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"He spotted me and directed a thinly-veiled order to go away. There was nothing I could do with him aware of my intent to follow him. What about you?"

"We ran into McGonagall and she chased us out of there." Harry began, "It looks like I don't have any choices left – I'm going to have to try and get the Stone first."

"What!" Ron blurted. "You can't just go after it!"

"You heard what McGonagall and Snape said. If you're caught, then you'll be expelled!" Hermionehad decided to jump in as well.

"It doesn't matter! If Snape gets the Stone and hands it over to Voldemort, there won't be a school to be expelled _from_! He'll level it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts, and then where will we be! And do you think he's just going to stop there? That he won't start going after our families! House points just don't matter right now, not compared to this. I am going to go through that trap door tonight and stop Snape from getting the Stone and nothing you two can say is going to stop me! He murdered my parents, remember?"

The other three students just stood there. Bruce was especially affected by that last remark. If he ever had the chance to face the man who murdered his parents……

"Potter's right. Keeping the Stone out of Voldemort's hands is now top priority. Everything else is secondary." The other two Gryffindors were a bit surprised at thissudden show of support for a boy who supposedly was the great adversary of Bruce'shouse. The Slytherin then turned to Harry.

"How are you going to get to the corridor tonight?"

"I have my dad's invisibility cloak. I'm just lucky I got it back."

"I don't think it will cover all four of us." Hermione said.

"Four?" Ron asked.

"I assume Bruce is coming too, right?" she looked at the Slytherin. Bruce nodded.

"I may as well see this through. You don't have to worry about the cloak – I have my own ways of getting around."

"Right. We'll meet at the third-floor corridor after everyone else has gone to bed. Should be about eleven o'clock. I'll expect to see you there." There was a grim determination in Harry's voice that Bruce had not expected to hear. He liked it.

* * *

Bruce was unusually somber during the time leading up to the appointed meeting. He naturally began scouring every book he could find in order to uncover some clue that could help him defeat a dark wizard. Despite his search, Bruce eventually realized that he would have to rely on the skills he already had at hand, however meager they may be. Shortly before leaving the dormitory, Bruce took a few minutes to write a letter to Alfred, to be delivered in the event that he did not return. In it, the boy thanked the butler for being such a close friend after the deaths of his parents, and apologized for getting himself killed.

It was not particularly eloquent, but Bruce felt that it delivered the necessary sentiments. Carefully hiding it away, and placing a spell on it to prevent anyone snooping through his things from opening it, the Slytherin made his way out of the dormitory and into the halls. Moving with a swiftness that most would not expect from a mere eleven year-old child, he carefully passed through the various corridors that composed Hogwarts. There was no sign of Filch or Ms. Norris, and for that Bruce was thankful. The last thing he needed was to waste time evading the two of them. Eventually, he came to the familiar door in the third-floor corridor. He was early, as usual, and did his best to blend into the shadows, knowing that at any moment, he could be discovered. The boy did peek inside the door, finding it already open. Snape was already on his way to the Stone. Just as he started considering going in on his own, the Gryffindor trio arrived.

"Snape has a head start on us. The dog is already asleep." Bruce was careful to keep his voice as neutral as possible. Harry took a moment to look at the assembled students.

"If anyone wants to back out now, they can use my cloak to get back to their dorm." Ron snorted at his friend's remark.

"We're not letting you go that easily. Come on." The red-headed Gryffindor walked through the door and made his way to the trapdoor, being careful not to touch the slumbering beast. Harry took out a flute he had been carrying and started to play a tune, which made the three-headed beast fall into a deeper sleep. Ron opened the door and peered down into it.

"Do you see anything?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing. We'll have to jump down. Want to go first?" Hermione scowled at him. Bruce walked over and, after taking a careful look, jumped down. He landed with a thump on what upon closer inspection appeared to be a plant.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"Fine. I've landed on some sort of plant. There's a lot of it down here." Ron followed next, then came Harry and lastly Hermione.

"What is this thing?" Ron asked no one in particular. It was then that Bruce noticed the tendrils wrapping themselves around his legs.

"The next obstacle. Everyone keep calm." Bruce's order did not go over particularly well with Ron and Harry.

"It's the Devil's Snare! Don't move – that just makes it worse!" Hermione's order went about as well as Bruce's, and the Gryffindor began wracking her brain in order to figure out how to free the group.

Bruce, however, was already ahead of her and ignited his wand, using a variation of the same fire spell he threatened Draco Malfoy with. The plant's grip loosened, and soon all four students had fallen below to the next level.

"It's a good thing you paid attention in Herbology class." Bruce ignored Ron's remark, opting instead to give their new location a look. There was only one passageway, and lack of light made it nearly impossible todiscern anything. Harry charged ahead, while Bruce followed right behind him, making sure to stay alert for even the tiniest sound. Ron and Hermione brought up the rear.

The next obstacle was one Bruce felt extremely annoyed by – a room filled with flying keys. He was not particularly thrilled at the possibility of having to use a broom, but it was a relatively painless experience since Harry's flying skills were more than adequate to find the key they needed. Bruce made a mental note to improve his own skill on a broom over the summer. Being insufficient in any area was not a pleasant feeling and one that needed to be gotten rid of as quickly as possible.

After that was a sight the Slytherin was actually less intimidated by – a room filled with chess pieces. Each of them was easily twice the size of any of the students present.

"What do we do?" Hermione asked.

"We'll have to play it and win in order to get through." Weasley responded.

Bruce assumed the place of one of the knights, while Ron took the other. The Slytherin provided some tips to Weasley, though it was clear that the red-headed Gryffindor was something of a prodigy in regards to the game. He was not sure how long it lasted, except that they wasted precious minutes that would have been better spent pursuing Snape. However, when Ron volunteered to sacrifice himself in order to get the others through the game, Bruce began to re-evaluate his opinion of the Gryffindor. Anyone willing to take that kind of hit for a cause was obviously someone that should not be underestimated. He would have to keep a closer eye on the red-headed boy in the future, assuming any of them survived the night.

After the chessboard, Bruce was met with a sickening smell, the source of which was a dead troll in the middle of the room. Harry and Hermione simply went around it with disgusted looks on their faces, but Bruce lagged behind for a moment. A troll….if Hermione was correct, and Bruce had no reason to think that she was not; this would be Quirrell's defense for the Stone. It could not be Snape's – all of the traps had corresponded to the particular specialization of the teacher, meaning that Snape's obstacle would have something to do with potions. Was this all that stood in the potions master's way? This was what held Snape back prior to now? A simple troll that could probably have been taken out by a few first-years like….on…..Halloween….

Bruce let out a loud cry of anger, which was possibly the most overt act of emotion he had performed that entire year. The noise prompted Harry and Hermione to come running.

"What is it?" the girl asked.

"This troll. This is the protection Quirrell offered for the stone."

"So?" Harry asked.

"What was let loose in the castle on Halloween?" Harry and Hermione looked at each other, then at Bruce.

"Wait," Hermione began " you can't be suggesting that….."

"If a troll is here, it means that they were Quirrell's specialty. Yet, how was he unable to handle one that some first-years managed to defeat?" The two Gryffindors looked grim.

"That doesn't change the fact that I saw Snape limping after Halloween, and threatening Quirrell as well and the fact that he tried to _kill_ me." Harry's tone was not quite as confident as he obviously wanted it to sound.

"No, it doesn't. It does raise some interesting questions. We need to be on our guard when we reach the Stone, and be suspicious of anyone we find there." It was an obvious bit of strategy, and everyone present knew it. Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement anyway and the three students made their way to the next room.

Just as Bruce expected, the room had Snape's challenge – a logic puzzle that you had to deduce in order to find the correct potion for advancing. Harry looked a bit flustered at this, but both Bruce and Hermione were slightly elated. This was something more up their collective alley. In the end, it took only some ten minutes of discussion between the two in order to discover which potions caused the effects listed on the parchment Snape had left. However, looking at the remnants of the small potion, it became clear that there was a choice to be made.

"There's only enough for one." Harry's statement hung there like a portent of doom. The three students exchanged glances and then Potter spoke again.

"Which one will take you back through the flames?" Bruce picked up a rounded bottle.

"I want the two of you to drink this." the Gryffindor began. "When you're through, get Ron and get him out of here. Then find someone – McGonagall or whoever – and tell them what's happened."

"Harry, we can't just leave you!" the emotion in Hermione's voice revealed the pain caused by the thought of abandoning her friend to some dark wizard.

"We don't have a choice. There's not enough for more than one. I'll hold off Snape, or Quirrell or Voldemort or whoever's in there. Hopefully long enough that the two of you can get back with help." Hermione looked ready to cry. She threw her arms around her friend.

"Hermione!"

"You're a great wizard Harry."

"Not as good as you."

"Me! Books and cleverness! There are more important things and Harry – oh, be careful!" Bruce felt a bit embarrassed to watch this display of friendship as it was obviously something a bit personal. Hermione took the potion, drank from it, and walked back through the purple fire. Harry then turned to Bruce.

"I know we haven't had much of a chance to-" Bruce cut him off.

"Save it." The Slytherin then took the small potion that allowed passage to the Stone, waved his wand, spoke some words, and watched as it refilled to the top. Harry was dumbstruck.

"How…?"

"Refilling Charm. You've got the right idea, sending Granger back for help. The problem with it is that a simple first-year is not going to last long against a dark wizard."

"As opposed to _two_ first-years?"

"Two first-years will last slightly longer."

"How do you know Hermione won't come back for you?"

"Because by now she probably knows what my plan is and that she can best help us by getting help from an actual wizard. Drink up, Potter." With that, the two students drank the last of the potion and walked through the flames. Bruce, however, grabbed one of poisons that lay on the table and hid it inside his robes, thinking it might come in handy. Once on the other side they encountered a figure that one of them certainly did not expect.

* * *

Notes:

Only one more installment to go, kiddlins. I know this one's a bit short, but I couldn't resist another cliffhanger. I'm incredibly cruel that way.

I know there wasn't that much interaction between Bruce and Snape, but I just couldn't lengthen it no matter how much I tried. The potions master is a shrewd one, and knows when an eleven year old child is trying to spy on him. Espionage is something he has experience with and I don't see him tolerating it from a student. Especially when said student has been associating with Harry Potter. Did you catch the bit I put in about "mind-reading"? Personally, I would expect Snape to use Legilimency whenever it might suit him.

Let me know what you thought! Was anything glaringly wrong about this chapter? Was anything especially nice about this chapter? Did it need to have Bruce threaten to burn someone's face off again? Again - let me know!


	8. Conclusions

Bruce Wayne and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter Eight: Conclusions

Bruce resisted the urge to smirk in satisfaction – it _was_ Quirrell. The Slytherin only regretted that it took this long to piece everything together. Harry, however, was aghast. Quirrell only smiled.

"I was wondering if I would meet you here, Potter. I see you've brought along a guest." Bruce glared at the teacher, who only chuckled. Harry was still in a state of disbelief.

"But….Snape…he tried to kill me when.." Quirrell interrupted him.

"When you were on your broom? Ignorant child, Snape was trying to save you. He was muttering the counter-curse so quickly that for a moment I thought you were actually going to survive. Then your friend Granger knocked me over and broke my concentration. Even though I failed, Snape decided to referee the next match to make sure I didn't try again. He shouldn't have bothered – with Dumbledore there I couldn't have done anything." Quirrell continued talking, but Bruce was not listening. He leaned closed to Harry and whispered in to him.

"Keep him talking." Harry didn't need any explanation.

"So, you _were_ the one who let the troll in on Halloween." Harry was looking directly at the teacher.

"Yes, I was. Trolls are something of a specialty of mine. I thought it the perfect diversion to get to the Stone. Unfortunately, I couldn't get past that filthy mongrel of Hagrid's. Snape tried to cut me off, but ended up with a wounded leg for his trouble. A small bit of consolation for my failure."

"Then, when I heard Snape threatening you…."

"He was actually warning me to stay away from the Stone. Very good, Potter. You may not be the complete idiot I thought you were. Or maybe your Slytherin friend there has been giving you tips on deception. No matter – it's not as if Severus could threaten me, after everything that has been done to me…" the teacher turned to the mirror.

"I can see myself with the Stone, presenting it to my master, but how can I get it? I should have known that Dumbledore would conceive of something truly aggravating." Bruce and Harry glimpsed the mirror and each instantly recognized it – the mirror of Erised. The two exchanged glances while Quirrell had his back to them. Harry was a bit surprised at the knowing look on Bruce's face, but the Slytherin simply whispered "If we survive, I'll tell you about it."

"Murmuring amongst yourselves, are you?" Quirrell mocked. "Hoping to find some way to stop your professor? Why don't you come over here and give me a hand. Potter first." Again the two students exchanged looks, and Harry saw Bruce's wand partially extending out of his sleeve, realizing that his fellow student was ready to jump in if Quirrell made a move against the Gryffindor. Harry slowly walked up to the mirror. Bruce could not make out anything, but clutched his wand even tighter.

"Well, Potter? What do you see?"

"I see….myself. With Professor Dumbledore. He's presenting me with the House Cup. I've just won it for Gryffindor." Bruce knew it was a lie, but hoped that Quirrell would not be so clever. It was then that Bruce heard a voice that chilled him to the bone.

"He's lying…..he's lying…." Bruce looked around, hoping to find some trace of an invisibility cloak or something, when he realized that the voice seemed to be coming from Quirrell.

"Let me see…let me see….." Quirrell then looked upset.

"No master! You're still weak! I have the situation in hand!" The terror in Quirrell's voice was obvious to all who heard it.

"Do not make me repeat myself……"

"Yes, master." With that, Quirrell began unwrapping his turban and Bruce was met with a sight that sickened him.

Protruding from the back of the teacher's head was a face, a face with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils. It looked straight at him and Bruce clutched his wand tighter than ever, wondering if now would be a good time to try...something. It turned to Harry, leaving Quirrell now directly in the Slytherin's line of sight.

"See what I have become……reduced to a mere whisper of my former power…..forced to rely upon another's body to keep me alive. All because of you. The Unicorn blood has sustained long enough for this moment,……once I have the Stone, I will return to glory. You could help me……..I see the potential in you for great things….if only you join me….." A disgusted look crossed Harry's face.

"You killed my parents. I'll never join you!" Voldemort looked murderous.

"Do not be a fool. You have no chance against me. No one…..can help you."

"I said no." Bruce had to admit – the Gryffindor's courage was impressive.

You shall pay for this…..perhaps your Slytherin companion will see the truth…" he turned to Bruce. "Strike down the boy…….prove your loyalty to Slytherin and I shall reward you greatly…..you need only take the Stone from his pocket." Harry and Bruce exchanged horrified looks and something that sounded like a perversion of a laugh emanated from Voldemort. Harry stumbled backward.

"Don't be fools. You need only hand me the Stone to survive. You need not meet the same fate as your parents." Harry sprang for the door and Bruce flung the potion he had concealed straight at Quirrell, which caused the man to fall to the floor and start yelling with pain. It would not kill him, but the ingredients used to make the potion would be guaranteed to make the professor's life extremely painful for the next several minutes.

"I think it's time we got out of here." Harryhad said this afterreaching his companion's side, obviously trying to think of something.

"You may have a point." The two children turned to the way they came in, only to be stopped in their tracks by a great roar of pain and rage.

Voldemort had gotten back on his feet and looked ready to murder both of them in the grisliest manner possible. Bruce and Harry looked at each other, hoping that one of them would come up with some brilliant, last-minute strategy.

"Kill them! Kill them both!" After this command from Voldemort, Harry suddenly fell to the ground, obvioiusly in pain andhad his hands on hisscar. Bruce knelt to his side, only to be thrown hard into a nearby pillar by Quirrell's spell. He got up, but then heard the dark wizard shout another spell.

"Reducto!" The ceiling above Bruce exploded, causing numerous pieces of large rock to fall on him. The boy thought he heard some ribs cracking, but did his best to push it out of his mind.

Satisfied that Bruce was out of the picture and in sufficient pain for the time being, the professor then turned his attention to Harry. Yet, when he placed his hands around the boy's neck with the clear intention of choking the life out of him, Quirrell yelped with pain.

"Master, when I touch the boy it burns!"

"No matter! Kill him! Kill him now! I command it!" Voldemort was clearly insane with rage.

Bruce, barely conscious and bleeding, somehow managed to get to his feet, though it resulted in constant pain. Limping over to the scene of the attempted strangulation, he tried to jump Quirrell, who brushed him aside, and then kicked him in the gut.

"I think I shall begin with you and let Potter know what is in store for him." The teacher raised his wand.

"Avada Ke-" the interruption was caused by none other than Harry Potter, who had decided to mimic Bruce's tactic of tackling the teacher. However, when he made skin contact, smoke seemed to come from Quirrell's hands. Realizing what was happening, Harry started clutching the professor, though it was obviously causing the Gryffindor extreme pain. Quirrell began screaming in agony and Bruce watched as the dark lord's host began to disintegrate before his very eyes.

Again and again Voldemort yelled 'KILL HIM!', in what looked to be an increasingly vain attempt to snatch victory. Once again stumbling to his feet and ignoring the piercing pain in his chest area, Bruce tried to separate the two, since he doubted Potter could survive much longer. Yet, when he placed his hands on the combatants there was an experience of pain like no other that went coursing through his body. His last conscious thought was the realization that Quirrell was dissolving into a kind of black smoke.

* * *

The first thing Bruce realized upon awakening was the feeling that he had been hit by something approximating a large truck, or maybe a train. His eyes cleared and the boy realized that he was in the hospital wing of the school. On the bed next to his was the unconscious form of Harry Potter. For a moment Bruce thought that his ally was dead, but then realized that if that were the case, he would not be in a hospital. Not to mention the fact that there would not be a small mountain of candy right next to him. Bruce let out a sigh of relief – it looked like they had won.

"Yes, Quirrell did indeed fail in his attempt. It is good to see that your powers of observation are not dulled by a mere near-death experience." Bruce turned to see the welcome face of Albus Dumbledore.

"How is he?" Bruce motioned to Harry.

"He has been through a truly traumatic experience, but Harry has shown himself to be a resilient boy. Madam Pomfrey expects him to make a full recovery." Bruce let out another sigh of relief.

"I must thank you for your remarkable show of bravery down there. Most would not have placed themselves in such a position for someone they did not know. It warms my heart to see that such nobility still resides in the students under my charge." Bruce could not make eye contact – something about the man made him feel unworthy.

"I merely did what was necessary."

"If more people placed the same importance on what is 'necessary' as you, a great many problems would be solved. I'm sure Harry will say the same thing once he awakens."

"He might say that – if he remembers it after going through the mountain of gifts he's received. I take it the entire school has heard about what happened."

"Mr. Wayne, what happened down there was an event purely between the four individuals there and best kept a secret. Naturally, the whole school knows about it." Bruce stifled a laugh at that. "And do not underestimate the gratitude of others. You have had a few well-wishers yourself." Bruce looked to see that Dumbledore was next to a tray with some candies on it, signed with Ron and Hermione's names.

"Both Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley have expressed deep concern over your welfare. I believe you may have inadvertently made yourself some friends." Bruce smiled at that. He then summoned up the will to look directly at the Headmaster.

"Sir, what did happen down there? Both of us should be dead."

"Harry's mother died protecting him. The kind of love that takes is complete anathema to Voldemort, who simply cannot begin to conceive of it. It left a mark of its own on Harry, one that was so pure it protected him from the touch of one as evil as Voldemort. When you attempted to save Harry from Quirrell's grip, the hatred Voldemort embodies was directed at you for a deadly few seconds. "

"What about Voldemort himself? Is he gone?"

"No dear boy, he has once again managed to escape death. He abandoned Quirrell and has now gone to find a new place where he can recover. It may take more than either you or Harry to stop him when he once again manifests himself. Yet, he may be delayed again and again, until finally he can no longer return."

"I suppose you can't tell me why Voldemort was so interested in Harry in the first place." Dumbledore frowned.

"Alas, I cannot. It is a private manner concerning Harry, and one he cannot learn of until he is older."

"I understand, sir. What about the Stone? Is it still in the school?"

"The Stone has been destroyed. Its creator and I had a discussion about it and decided that it was the most prudent course. It would only be a temptation for others to attempt to seize."

"How _did_ Harry get the Stone?"

"Ah. It was one of my more clever ideas. I enchanted the mirror so that the Stone could only be acquired by one who wanted it, but did not want to use it for himself."

"That was clever. If I could ask a few more things…."

"My dear boy, you have earned a few more answers."

"How long have I been out?"

"Two days. I expect Madam Pomfrey will keep for two more, at the least."

"One last thing, Headmaster." Bruce picked up one of the gifts left for him. "Would you care for some of this? I probably won't eat it." Dumbledore smiled.

"My dear boy, you must learn to allow yourself to indulge in the fruits of victory. Or sweets, as this situation has it. Now, I ask that you get some rest and enjoy the gifts that have been given to you. You have certainly earned them. I shall be back once Harry awakens." With that, Bruce laid back on his bed and looked forward to a nice, long rest.

Dumbledore was indeed back when the Gryffindor awoke, and Bruce found that Harry asked many of the same questions he did. The Slytherin felt a bit sorry for the Headmaster, having to go through the same material a second time. Yet, he sensed that while most would have found it tedious, he was only happy to explain things for the boy. Bruce supposed that was one of the things that made Dumbledore such a great teacher – his willingness to help, despite whatever inconvenience. In the process, Bruce learned a few interesting facts about Professor Snape, which he resolved to store away for further use. One could never know when such information could be useful. After Dumbledore left, the two chatted briefly, and Harry thanked Bruce for everything, though Bruce's decided lack of conversational skills or tact kept things brief. In response to Harry's inquiry about the mirror, Bruce simply said "I found it roughly before you did." and brushed aside any questions about what he saw. After that, the two spent most of their time resting, until Madam Pomfrey allowed Ron and Hermione to stop by. The two Gryffindors were elated to see their friend healthy, and then Ron turned to Bruce.

"Y'know, I wasn't that sure about you, at first. I mean, with you being a Slytherin and everything. But, you're an alright bloke and anyone willing to stick their neck out for Harry is a friend of mine." He extended his hand and Bruce took it, but decided to kill any hopes Weasley had of a chummy relationship.

"I merely did what was necessary. Nothing more. I expect you to remember that in the future." The curt tone to his voice only made Ron shake his head and caused Harry and Hermione to roll their eyes.

"Oh, come off it." Hermione said. "No one as cold as you make yourself look would be willing to return a lost toad, remember?" Bruce said nothing, but gave her a sour look which prompted all three Gryffindors to start giggling.

"I think he's just upset that he didn't a small mountain of gifts. Maybe we could conjure one up for him?" Harry's light-hearted swipe only made Bruce glower even more, which in turn only made the Gryffindors giggle even more.

"Oh, he's got enough to be happy about. Slytherin won the house cup _again_, even if it was just barely." Ron's needling made Bruce briefly consider murder, but they were interrupted by Madam Pomfrey, who promptly ushered the two guests out of the room. Bruce turned to Harry.

"Interesting friends you have."

"Yeah. I don't know what I would do without them."

* * *

The next day passed a bit swiftly for Bruce. He was awakened by the sound of Hagrid coming in to sob his apologies to Harry. After a slightly amusing display, Hagrid calmed down and offered Bruce an invitation to his hut. It appeared that the 'if you're a friend of Harry, you're a friend of mine' mentality was not limited to a few select students. That night, he and Bruce made their way to the feast, though Bruce had to be slightly prodded to do so. When they made their way to their respective tables, Bruce could feel the eyes of all the Slytherins on him. There was little doubt his adventure had resulted in the more powerful members of the house labeling him a traitor. He would not be a bit surprised to find that Malfoy had done more than his part as well, trying to get some payback for the various humiliations. No matter. Bruce was more than capable of dealing with what his peers could throw at him.

He took a seat at the end of the table, next to a student he recognized as Blaise Zabini. The fellow Slytherin looked ready to say something, but then decided not to. The Headmaster then began his usual speech for the end of the year. Bruce normally would have tuned out most of it, but instead he hung on every word. The past year had resulted in a tremendous surge of respect on his part for the old man, and Bruce was not one who gave respect lightly. He listened as the Slytherins cheered when Dumbledore announced that they had won the house cup, but he became truly interested when the Headmaster announced that there were a few more points to be given out.

"First - to Mr. Bruce Wayne for the most remarkable display of inter-house cooperation I have had the privilege to see in a very long time, I award Slytherin house forty points." This caused a number of confused reactions from the crowd. Slytherin had already won the cup, so why give them more points? Nevertheless, there was some clapping from the Slytherin table, apparently from people just glad to have more points. They had come narrowly close to being beaten by Ravenclaw.

"Second – to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." Now that drew murmurs from the crowd, as they wondered what Dumbledore was up to.

"Third – to Ms. Hermione Granger, for the cool use of logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." That caused some cheers from the Gryffindors, as they realized the large increase in points they were being given.

"Fourth – to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points." There were some cheers at that, but also more murmuring as people began to tally the points up and realized that Slytherin and Gryffindor were now dead even. Bruce had a feeling that Dumbledore had one last surprise left.

"There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Bruce was not sure that he would ever again hear something as loud, and personally thought that would probably be a good thing. Even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had joined in, happy to see Slytherin dethroned at last. As he looked about his table, some of his classmates looked positively murderous. A few directed their looks at Potter, but others aimed right at him, no doubt placing the blame for this humiliation squarely upon his shoulders. Bruce had a feeling that his interactions with the rest of his house were going to be very interesting next year. Turning his attention to the Gryffindors, Bruce saw the entire table almost overcome with joy. Hermione had turned several shades of deep red, while Ron has something of a dumbstruck look to him. Harry was positively elated, and Bruce was not surprised. This kind of validation was obviously important to the Gryffindor, and who was he to begrudge him happiness? The two made eye contact briefly, and Bruce gave Harry a slight smirk, showing no hard feelings. Harry could only keep that stupid smile on his face.

* * *

In the days that came, Bruce actually saw very little of the Gryffindor trio, considering everything they had gone through together. This was mostly due to his own desire to be left alone and contemplate the options that were set before him. He had originally come to Hogwarts hoping to learn magic in order to use it later in life as a means to clean up Gotham City. However, the strict policy of secrecy set down by the Ministry of Magic obviously prevented such a course of action. There was a strong temptation to simply abandon Hogwarts and the magical community in general.

Yet, the more he thought about that possibility, the less appealing it seemed to him. While he could not use magic to help Gotham, there was still the matter of Lord Voldemort. The idea that the dark lord would simply give up after this setback involving the Stone was ludicrous to the point of insanity. He would be back. It was only a matter of time. Someone needed to be willing to stand in his way and while there certainly was not a lack of brave souls that would stand up and be counted, Bruce felt that he should keep a personal eye on the situation. It was not that he did not trust the likes of Dumbledore to perform admirably, he simply had doubts concerning everyone else.

Thus, he was resolved to continue his education at Hogwarts, if for no other reason than it was blindingly obvious that the school would become the focal point for whatever battle with the dark forces loomed ahead. Perhaps not the best reason to stay on at a location, but it would suffice.

However, his allies in Gyffindor would not allow him to indulge his musings on the nature of his stay at Hogwarts, simply because they were curious to find out how well he had performed on his exams. Ron was sure that Hermione would emerge at the top of her year, but Harry had his doubts.

"I don't know," he would say. "Bruce was actually capable of keeping up with her while we studied. He might actually beat her."

"Harry, don't be mental."

Yet, when they eventually cornered him, Bruce revealed that he had beaten the Gryffindor brain at Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ron was shell-shocked.

"It's Snape's fault, obviously. That git wasn't about to allow a Gryffindor top marks when he could give it to one of his Slytherins."

Yet, when Harry asked his best friend to explain how Bruce managed to earn a high grade in Defense Against the Dart Arts, the red head could only mumble something about Slytherins and talents for the dark arts. However, it was the expression on Hermione's face when she realized she had been beaten at schoolwork that proved to be the most satisfying part of the experience for Bruce. It was something he resolved to remember for a long time to come. The female Gryffindor tried to brush it off, but all assembled could tell that she had decided to study even harder next year. Ron took Bruce aside.

"I hope you're happy. As if she wasn't bad enough before. Now she'll go from being a walking encyclopedia to being a walking library! We'll probably never see her again, she'll be too busy studying." Bruce could only give a smug smirk.

"Perhaps if you Gryffindors shared her habits you wouldn't be required to defeat a dark lord in order to win the house cup." Harry gave a small laugh at Bruce's response.

"You're just bitter because the points you won didn't get Slytherin the house cup. We'll just have to make sure that next year, we beat you without any dark lords."

Sooner than anyone expected, the bags were packed and the train was boarded. While he was invited to ride with them, Bruce decided to spend the return trip alone and without Gryffindor company. The Hogwarts express managed to once again make its way back to King's Cross station, and the students were let out in small groups in order to avoid arousing the muggles. Bruce said a few brief goodbyes to the only people he could call friends at that school, somewhat ducking the promise of keeping in touch. As he left the platform, he found Alfred waiting for him. The familiar butler took hold of the luggage and led his charge to the car.

"I trust that you've had a pleasant experience, Master Bruce." Bruce smiled.

"That's one way of putting it, Alfred."  
"I take it you plan to return next year?"

"Yes, Alfred. Things are a bit too…..interesting for me to think about leaving it behind." Alfred could only shake his head at that remark. The boy could be so reckless.

* * *

Notes: 

Well, here it is. The end of it. Bruce Wayne, the future Batman, managed to survive his first year at Hogwarts, although a bit narrowly. However, such little things like near-death experiences aren't going to phase him in the least, so expect Bruce to be his usual self when I unveil...

dramatic pause

_Bruce Wayne and the Chamber of Secrets!_

Yes friends, I fully intend to write a sequal that chronicles Bruce's second year at Hogwarts, as he deals with a Slytherin house that's now aware of his existence and growing a bit hostile to him. Not to mention there's this guy called 'The Heir of Slytherin' who's running around and petrifying muggle-borns. Obviously, our hero is going to have to do something about that. The first chapter should be up in about a week.

Before I sign off and return to work on the sequal, I want to give a hearty thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review this little effort of mine. There's really no fun in writing if no one is going to bother to read it, so you all make everything worthwhile. Thanks.


End file.
